


Let's Redecorate Our Lives

by thoughtlessblogger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Louis, Alternate Universe, Famous Louis, Famous/Not famous, Fluff, Happy Ending, Interior Decorator Harry, M/M, Minor Angst, Non-Famous Harry, POV Louis, Pining, Smut, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 05:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7347763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtlessblogger/pseuds/thoughtlessblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He pauses with his hand on the doorknob. Turning to Harry he says, “Prepare yourself.”</p>
<p>“It can't be that bad,” Harry replies with a glint in his eye.</p>
<p>“You'd be surprised.”</p>
<p>Slowly, he opens the door, stepping aside and motioning Harry in. </p>
<p>Harry takes the room in silently, standing in the center and turning on his heels with wide eyes. When he's finished, he turns to Louis, who's leaning in the doorway. “This is horrendous.”</p>
<p>Or</p>
<p>Louis hires a decorator and gets more than he'd anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Redecorate Our Lives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiwikero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwikero/gifts).



> I decided to use your third prompt, the Famous/Not Famous one. I absolutely loved the idea and I hope you like what I've done with it. I've taken some creative liberties here with Harry's job. I feel like he does a lot more than he would as a real life interior designer. 
> 
> I'd like to thank my beta's for doing their thing, especially 'L' because she isn't interested in Larry fic at all. Your help was very much appreciated.
> 
> There's links at the end for some of the things that served as inspiration.
> 
> Warnings: There's some alcohol use, though it's not anything too explicit, and some smut.
> 
> I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you enjoy!!!

Bel-Air, Los Angeles was never a place Louis thought he'd be living in. Growing up in a lower-middle class family in Doncaster, L.A. was never a thought in his mind of places he could eventually live. Yet, here he is, currently being paraded around a five bedroom, five bath, three million dollar home in Bel-Air.

His mother is proud, albeit, miffed she's not part of his plans of moving out to L.A on a more permanent basis. She claims she's only upset that she's not able to help him look for a place, but he knows the real reason is he's moving away from home. He's tried telling her multiple times that he'll still be home for visits, but she's refusing to understand why he's chosen to leave her. Apparently, his career means nothing.

But he's here and he thinks he found the place after two weeks of looking. Never let it be said Louis Tomlinson didn't care about his home. It doesn't need to be perfect, but as close to it as possible, in his opinion. 

It's the third place he's looked at today – the tenth this week – and it's only Wednesday. In the course of the two week process he thinks his real estate agent has shown him close to fifty homes. Louis' been told many times by Niall that he's being too picky, but the man always listens to Louis' complaints about the houses and does his best to step up his game.

This one – today – might very well be the one Louis chooses.

“The only problem is that master bath,” Louis says, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. 

There's an open floor plan on the first floor. The kitchen, dining area and living area are spacious and bright, but what's really doing it for him is the fact that there are also more private areas of the first floor. There's a more private dining room, a private living area and a completely closed off room that would be great for a game room, media room or _something_.

But that bathroom.

It's atrocious. It doesn't match the rest of the house. The colors are too dark – almost a black – which would be nice in small amounts, but the whole room is done in it. Louis had thought Niall was being over dramatic when he'd told Louis to brace himself upon entering, but he wasn't. The shower, the tub, the sinks, the walls, cabinets and floor are all done in that marble. He'd half expected the ceiling to be done that way as well.

“It has to be changed,” he continues, tilting his head as he imagines putting the sofa facing the fireplace. “There's absolutely no way I can use it until it is.”

“Louis, is this the best idea?”

“No, the sofa should actually face the wall,” he says, turning from the fireplace. “It's floor to ceiling windows in here. Lets in plenty of light and it's a spectacular view. Damn the fireplace.”

Liam sighs on the other end of the phone. Louis imagines he's pinching the bridge of his nose. He does that a lot when he's exasperated with him, which seems to be most of the time. “Louis, we've been through this before,” he chastises.

“Listen, mate, I know you said I should just buy something that's move-in ready. _And this is_ , but I want to change a couple of things.” 

“Louis, that's not move-in ready.”

“It's as close as I'm gonna get.” Niall walks in then, punching the air and shooting Louis a giant grin. “Let's keep in mind,” he continues when Liam starts to argue. “You're my agent, not the person who's going to be living here.”

Liam mutters something under his breath that Louis doesn't catch before asking, “Well, how much is it, then?”

Ah, yes. Of course Liam wants to know the price. This is something else they've argued about from the beginning of Louis' decision to move here permanently. Liam thinks Louis should be more modest in his home and Louis agrees, but he also likes having a lot of space.

He was told by many people that having that much space to himself would get lonely. And it does to some degree, but Louis grew up in a large family with little privacy and space. He enjoys having the room. Liam can fuck off about it.

“You do realize this is my money, right?”

“I know, but I don't think you do.”

Louis sighs, running a hand through his hair. Niall's moved to the other side of the island in the kitchen, his papers spread out all over that side. “Around three mil,” he says. “But don't worry,” he adds quickly. “I've got that money. More than, actually.”

“Louis, I don't think-.”

Louis presses the end button and pockets his phone. Liam can reprimand him later. He turns to Niall with his arms out. “Okay, when can I sign the papers?”

Niall's smile brightens and Louis doesn't regret this one bit.

**

“I really don't need you here,” Louis says as he walks past the staircase and through the hall into the open living area. “This isn't your home.”

“Maybe not,” Liam starts, following after him. “But I don't trust you alone with these people.”

Louis stops abruptly, turning to Liam with a cocked eyebrow. “What do you mean? You think they'll take advantage of me? Is that it?”

Lips set in a straight line, Liam stops as well, arms crossed. “You do give new meaning to the dumb actor stereotype.”

Most of Louis' furniture has been brought in by now, but the movers are trickling in with smaller, more decorative items. One of them nearly drops the lamp he's carrying when Louis takes a step to the side.

“You saw that bathroom,” he says, ignoring Liam's comment and the mover. “It's atrocious.”

“I agree with you there.” Liam uncrosses his arms and walks to the fridge. “I just know this guy is going to try to convince you to redo the whole house. Then you'll be paying twice as much than you should be.”

He grabs a can of Coke, flips the tab and downs half of it in one go. “What time are they supposed to be here?”

“Oi! Tommo!”

At the sound of Niall's voice, Liam purses his lips together. “Oh.”

“In here!” Louis calls back, smirking. “Play nice,” he warns. “I actually like Niall. Don't scare him.”

As he's turning to the doorway, Niall comes bounding in, phone and folder in hand and a t-shirt on. He looks more relaxed than Louis' accustomed to. Usually, he's constantly on his phone in some capacity, taking hurried steps in his pressed suit and rushing people along. 

Relaxed, casual Niall is better, Louis thinks as they acknowledge each other with a fist bump. “How's it goin', mate?”

Niall shrugs. “Well, now that I've finally managed to get you settled, pretty damn well.”

“Was I really that difficult?” Louis grins.

“Not everyday you get to help Louis Tomlinson find a home.”

“I'm not that special,” Louis blushes. His career started six years ago when he was nineteen and he's been in the public eye almost every day since then, but he still doesn't like the attention he gets. It's nice having fans and knowing that people enjoy his work, but the constant questions and having people wrongly judging him are things he could do without.

Still, he thinks he handles it better than some. He probably has Liam to thank for that, though, he'll probably never actually thank him.

“So,” he begins, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Where's the guy that's going to save my bathroom?”

Niall snorts. “Should be in any moment. I didn't tell him who he was meeting with until we got here. Sorry in advance. He's a bit of a fan of yours and might have panicked a bit.”

That may not bode well for Louis, but at the same time this guy comes highly recommended _by_ Niall and Louis trusts Niall. He'll take his chances.

“Not a problem,” Louis tells him. “As long as he makes the bathroom look better I don't care who he is.”

Niall narrows his eyes, but his smile never fades. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“I thi-.”

A voice in the hall rushing out a “sorry, sorry,” has him cutting off. He hears some shuffling, a muffled, “wow,” and then the most gorgeous man Louis has ever seen comes into the room and a litany of “don't fuck your interior decorator, don't fuck your interior decorator,” runs through his mind almost immediately.

His heart might skip a beat when the man pulls his hair back into a bun as he comes to a stop just behind Niall. His jawline is immaculate and his eyes the brightest green. Louis might kill Niall for this.

“Hello.”

Or not.

This guy's voice is deep and he doesn't seem as flustered as Niall led Louis to believe. He's certainly very attractive and, if Louis didn't see the way his eyes weren't resting on one thing for too long, he'd think the guy was perfectly comfortable being here.

“Haz, stop being anti-social,” Niall says, waving him forward. 

_Haz_ scrunches up his face, but moves to stand next to Niall. Fuck, he's tall too. “How am I being anti-social?” he asks Niall. “I literally just walked into the room.”

“You hid in the car for ten minutes,” Niall replies, glancing at his phone when it pings.

Haz blushes, eyes meeting Louis'. “I was not hiding,” he defends. “I was led to believe that we were going to a two bedroom home in Santa Monica, not a five bedroom _mansion_ in Bel-Air. I wasn't adequately prepared.”

He shoots the last bit at Niall, who remains oblivious, typing on his phone. Louis wants to argue that this isn't a mansion, but the first thing Liam had said when seeing it the first time was, “You didn't tell me it was a mansion.”

Louis might have possibly, accidentally bought a mansion in Bel-Air.

His mother should be especially proud.

“You'll do fine,” Niall says, locking his phone and looking up. “Louis, this is Harry Styles of Stylick Designs,” he says, gesturing to him. “Harry, this is Louis Tomlinson.”

“I know,” Harry hisses at Niall, while holding his hand out for Louis. “Nice to meet you,” he directs toward Louis as he and Niall have a weird eye conversation.

“Likewise,” Louis agrees shaking Harry's hand. When they let go, he adds, “Why would you not use Styles in your company name?” He pauses, forehead crinkling. “Assuming it's your company. I thought Niall said it was.”

Harry grins. “It's mine and my mate's,” he clarifies. “I wanted to just go with Styles, but he threw enough of a tizzy that I had to listen to him.”

“Friends sort of suck in that way,” Louis quips.

“Hey!” Liam exclaims, finally stepping away from the fridge and joining them in the center of the room. “If this is about me disagreeing with you buying this place, I'll have you know that I-.”

“Shut up, Liam.”

Harry blinks slowly, turning to Liam. “Oh, hi! I didn't see you. I'm Harry.”

He holds his hand out, which Liam stares at like an idiot for a good solid second. The poor lad's not used to people addressing him when Louis' around...really he's not used to people addressing him when it doesn't have anything to do with Louis.

Louis should buy him something nice.

Maybe get him in to meet Robert Downey Jr. Liam would freak over that.

“I'm Liam Payne,” he says, shaking Harry's hand briefly. “Louis' friend.”

“And manager,” Louis adds. “And he tries to manage my whole life.”

“I do not.”

“You do, but this isn't about you. This is about my dead bathroom.” He turns to Harry, eyes wide. “How can you help?”

Harry had been smiling cautiously as he and Liam went back and forth, but at the question he becomes serious, clasping his hands behind his back. “I'll have to see the patient first.”

“It's right up there,” Louis says, moving his hand in a sweeping gesture toward the stairs and suppressing a grin. 

“I'll be down here,” Niall says, moving toward the sofa as they start toward the hall. “I've got some paperwork to finish up.”

Neither of them acknowledge him as Harry starts climbing the stairs. Louis follows after him, trying his best not to cringe at the thought of Harry seeing the bathroom. 

Logically, he knows Harry knows that Louis isn't responsible for the state of the room, but he can't help feeling self-conscious about it. It's stupid, but it's how his mind works.

“So, how much does a bathroom remodel usually cost?”

Harry and Louis both stop, turning to look down at Liam, who's a step below Louis. Louis glares at him, silently telling him to fuck off, it isn't his bathroom. 

With his hand on the handrail, Harry's brow wrinkles. “Are you going to be living here and using that bathroom?”

“Um, no,” Liam answers hesitantly.

“A bathroom remodel can cost anywhere between three thousand and one hundred thousand, give or take. Depends on a lot of things, really. Like how much is being done, square-feet, the types of materials used,” Harry rattles off. “I can't know for sure until I get in there and start looking around. But, uh, could you not come up with us? I'd really rather hear what Louis thinks and what he wants since it's his bathroom in his home.”

There's a pause where Liam just blinks up at Harry. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Harry cringe at himself. “Sorry,” he says. “I'm not trying to be rude. I've been doing this for a while and I know how it gets when a third party is involved. It'll just be easier and quicker if I talk to Louis alone.”

“It's fine,” Louis tells him, looking over his shoulder. “Liam needs to learn to stay out of certain aspects of my life, anyway.” He turns back to Liam, who's frowning hard. “Sorry, mate, but Harry's right. My bathroom. Not yours.”

Harry starts back up the stairs and Louis starts to following, but not before he catches Liam's look. He knows Liam's saying, “See, trying to take advantage.” Louis has half a mind of telling Liam to leave completely, but he knows Liam would only stay and instruct Louis' security team to not let Louis leave the house for the rest of the day.

Liam plays dirty.

Harry's waiting for him at the top of the stairs and Louis waves him on as he walks toward his room. 

The house has been his for a week now, but he'd spent the first two days of that buying furniture and arranging to have his current furniture moved over. The moving process didn't start until Tuesday. Now, on Thursday, Louis' only spent one night in the house and he'd refused to use his master bath.

It might seem a bit hoity-toity, but the bathroom really is terrible. It put him in a bad mood whenever he thought about it. He couldn't imagine spending his morning getting ready in there.

Once in the bedroom, Louis becomes aware of how much of a mess it already is. He's been told once or twice that he's a messy person, but he hadn't realized until now how bad he really was. He's only been here for a day, how could it be this bad already?

He'll definitely need to hire that cleaning service Liam suggested.

When they reach the bathroom door, which he's kept closed, he pauses with his hand on the doorknob. Turning to Harry he says, “Prepare yourself.”

“It can't be that bad,” Harry replies with a glint in his eye.

“You'd be surprised.”

Slowly, he opens the door, stepping aside and motioning Harry in. 

Harry goes, tipping an imaginary hat, but once he's inside he freezes and Louis immediately cringes. That bathroom is bad. He knows it. Niall knew it. Liam knows it. Everyone who could come in here would know it was bad. But there's something about having Harry, a professional interior decorator, reacting this way that makes him feel itchy.

Harry takes the room in silently, standing in the center and turning on his heels with wide eyes. When he's finished, he turns to Louis, who's leaning in the doorway. “This is horrendous.”

“I told you.”

“Yeah, but I hadn't realized. I mean, even Niall said it was bad and he likes shag carpet.”

He says it like it's a cardinal sin and Louis' inclined to agree. He had a shag rug once and he spilled applesauce on it. It never would come clean. It stunk for a very long time before he tried having it dry cleaned, but even that didn't help. The rug had eventually been thrown out.

“Don't know why I didn't expect the worst bathroom in the history of bathrooms,” Harry continues. “I mean, the Portoro Italian Marble is beautiful, but this much is a catastrophe. And windows are nice in a bathroom, but if you shower anyone outside would see _everything_. And I'm not even going to get started on the lack of an actual tub.”

“See that bothered me too,” Louis says, smiling at Harry's sudden outburst. 

He lights up at that. “Bathtubs are a necessity!”

“That's what I want, but I don't know if there's room.”

“There is, believe me, there is,” Harry tells him. “We'd just need to take out those cabinets over there,” he continues, pointing to the ones on the far wall. “The tub could go there because it's close to the shower, so piping won't be a problem. Then we could create a separate room for the toilet over in that corner.”

Harry crosses to the that corner and stands there, facing the wall. “Although, the piping _could_ be a problem here, but I can make it work. The shower can stay, but the window – providing you want it to be – will be covered up. And then we can add some cabinets over there.”

Louis doesn't bother looking to where Harry gestured. He doesn't know the first thing about bathroom floor plans. Harry's the professional, so he'll take his suggestions.

“What would covering the window entail exactly?”

“A little outside and inside work. Two by sixes, insulation, siding, dry wall and whatever you decide on for the inside of the shower.”

Nodding, Louis walks over to the shower, looking at the window. “What if I wanted to keep some of it?”

“That's doable, too. We'd just need to redo it.”

“I want it gone,” Louis says with an air of finality. “Completely. I hate the idea of having a window in my bathroom.”

Harry's nodding along with him, looking thoughtful. “Most people find it weird, but they do it for the natural light. Honestly, I don't like it at all.”

“That's something we agree on then.” He pauses, turning back to Harry. “So, where do we go from here?”

“Well, we've got to plan and that means you and I are going to need to discuss the types of things you like.” He moves over to the counter and perches himself on it, feet barely off the floor. “So, what do you like?”

There's a part of Louis' mind that immediately fills with inappropriate jokes, but he pushes them away. Now is not the time. “Well, I do like marble. Granite is nice too, but I don't _really_ know the difference.”

“Granite needs to sealed to repel grease, but marble stains easily,” Harry tells him.

“I won't remember that come tomorrow,” Louis says. “I like lighter colors, with like, dark accents?”

“Are you asking me what you like?”

“I'm saying I'm not a professional. I don't know what I'm talking about.”

“Maybe not, but I know you like light, bright colors with darker accents.”

Louis crosses his arms, pursing his lips. “Okay, fine. I also would like heated floors and a jacuzzi tub.”

“Not a problem.”

“Shouldn't you be taking notes?” 

Harry's cheeks redden. “I'd like to say I can remember these things, but I can't, so probably,” he mutters. “But I panicked in the car and forgot to grab my stuff.”

Louis bites the inside of his cheek. “No need to panic. I'm just a person.”

“Yeah,” Harry drags out. “But you're also Louis Tomlinson. Not that that makes you less of a person, but I'm a massive fan of yours. It's weird because I work with a lot of well-known people and I've never had this problem before.”

“Really?” Louis inquires, quirking an eyebrow.

“I think it's because I've always had a crush on you.”

As soon as it's out of his mouth, he slaps a hand over it, eyes widening. Louis stays silent for half a second before he starts laughing. 

He laughs for a long time, Harry's mortified expression transitioning into mild annoyance. “There's no need to laugh.”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” Louis gasps between breaths. “I just wasn't expecting that. Sorry.”

“I'm sure you get that a lot,” Harry argues. 

“Yes, but not from people like you.”

“Like me? What does that mean?”

Louis shrugs. “I just meant that normally...I don't know.” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. “I've been spending this whole time thinking about how ridiculously attractive you are.”

Harry's cheeks redden again. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Okay. So that's out of the way.”

“Yeah,” Louis says too quickly. “We'll just pretend that didn't happen.”

Nodding, Harry says, “I'll have to come back tomorrow or sometime in the next couple of days to finish out the plans and then we can actually start the remodel process.” He pushes off the counter, stumbling a bit when his feet hit the floor. “Do you have a specific time you want this finished?”

He'd not thought about it, if he's perfectly honest. But he would like to be able to use his bathroom sooner rather than later. 

He tells Harry as much and Harry replies, telling him he'll keep that in mind. They discuss a few more of Louis' likes and dislikes in terms of bathrooms and on the way out of the room Louis has a thought.

“Oh, I know you were brought in for the bathroom, but I have a room downstairs that I was hoping to turn into a game room of sorts. Media room, something like that. Could you do that as well?”

“Of course, but that means I'll be paid more.”

“That's not a problem.”

“Do you have a time for that one?”

“Actually, I do, yeah,” Louis tells him as they descend the stairs. “I'm hosting an Oscar's after party and I've decided to do it here. Don't ask me why because I honestly have no idea, but I need it finished before then. So two months?”

Harry nods in agreement and starts rattling off business things. By the end of it, they've agreed that Harry will come by in the morning with swatches, examples of materials, estimates and a couple of plans he said he'd come up with tonight.

On his and Niall's way out, he apologizes to Liam for “being rude” earlier, something Louis tells him repeatedly not to do, but Liam accepts the apology and Niall rolls his eyes, commenting that Harry's too nice for his own good as he leads him out.

When the door is shut and Louis' on his way back to the living area, Liam says, “He's a good looking guy, Louis. Don't let him take advantage of you and don't take advantage of him.”

Louis tells him to fuck off, reminding himself that Liam does have a point.

Harry is technically working for him. It doesn't matter how attractive he is and if he's had a crush on Louis for a while, that's territory that Louis can't enter.

No matter how much he truly would like to.

**

The bathroom remodel is coming along, but it seems that since Louis gave Harry the job of creating a game room before his Oscars party he's been focusing most of his time and attention on that. Louis' not complaining because he knew the bathroom would take time, but he would really like to stop using the one down the hall.

And, of course, he's not too fond of the strangers going in and out of his bedroom all day as they work. He's given them permission and he thinks he knows Harry well enough now to know that he wouldn't hire people if he didn't trust them. Louis just has to be careful when it comes to his privacy.

There's a lot going on with the two remodels and Louis' staying as far away from the chaos as possible. He and Harry had sat down and planned out everything Louis wanted for the bathroom. Admittedly, he hadn't thought it would be that big of a deal or that much work, but they'd spent hours looking through swatches and whatever else it was Harry had brought with him. Louis stopped caring after a while, wanting to get it over with so he started taking Harry's suggestions without a second thought.

Once they'd finished with that Harry wanted to know what Louis was looking for when it came to the game room. If he was looking for something more classic like a billiard room or something more modern or something like in the house from _Clue_. Louis had to sheepishly admit that he was really only looking for a bar. Harry had laughed at that, saying he could do that. Louis told him to make all the decisions, but made it a point that it was _his_ bar in his home that needed to be ready by the party. Harry only laughed harder.

“So as you can see – or not – it's cherry,” Harry's saying, running a hand over the wood that's propped against the wall. “Not typically used for home pubs, but it ages well and is very durable. I'm having it built to last, so to speak.”

“Uh-huh,” Louis nods. “But I'm more interested in what's going on over there,” he adds, pointing to the opposite side of the room, where the glass for the windows has been taken out.

Harry looks over, eyes lighting up. “Oh! You told me to do what I thought you'd like.”

“Yes, I did.”

Beside him, Liam groans, rolling his eyes. Louis and Harry both ignore him. 

“Well, I figured the right ambiance would be for the room to be darker,” Harry continues. “These windows let too much light in. So I'm replacing the glass with something more tinted and then we're going to put up dark, black-out curtains. If you want natural light you can pull them back and still have it.”

Louis considers what Harry said for half a second before, shrugging. “Okay.” Liam shoots him a pointed look, which reminds him. “Oh, Harry. I thought of something else.”

Harry turns away from the man he was speaking to about where to place something. “What do you mean?” he questions, cocking an eyebrow.

“The pool house,” he answers. “I'm not ever going to really use it, but the current decorations in there aren't exactly my thing. You think you could take a look at it? You know, after all this is done.”

A smile spreads across his face slowly at that. “Of course.”

“This is ridiculous,” Liam voices, turning to Louis. “You don't need the pool house redecorated. It's fine the way it is. You just want it redecorated because it'll keep him around longer.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “You've not even seen the pool house. You don't have a clue.”

“Ah! You're getting defensive. That means I'm right.”

“No, it means you're being a massive dick.”

“The pool house is fine, isn't it?”

“It's not, but you know even less about it than I do.”

“If you'd just admit I'm right-.”

“There's nothing to admit, except you being-.”

Someone clearing a voice stops them both. When they turn towards it, Harry's glancing between them with barely concealed amusement. “As fun as this is, I've got a job to be doing and you're both in the way.” He motions to the room. There's three men in there moving things around and two on the outside doing something to his missing windows. “Obviously, it's your house,” he adds to Louis, “but this would get done a lot quicker if you'd vacate.”

“Right, right.” Louis starts backing toward the door. “You're right. We'll go and we'll talk about the pool house sometime later.”

As he's turning around in the doorway he hears Harry's “Looking forward to it,” which makes him smile.

“See, I was right,” Liam says stepping in front of him. “You just want him around more.”

“Shut up.”

On his way past Liam, Louis punches him in the shoulder.

**

“So...I'll get on that, then?”

He doesn't think Harry meant for it to come out like a question, but, then again, Louis never explicitly stated he was on board with the idea. It's just this whole bathroom remodel has turned into Louis remodeling most of the house. 

Although, only a third of the house is actually being remodeled, Louis' thought of a whole list of things he'd like Harry to do, whether it's redoing a whole room or just fixing the color scheme in Louis' office. Louis might have a problem, but he's powerless to stop it.

Harry's too good at what he does and it doesn't hurt that he's pretty to look at. And nice. Oh god, is he so nice. Harry's a beautiful person inside and out. And Louis' sure he shouldn't know his interior designer's personality as well as he does, but here he is.

So, Louis has a problem. He keeps coming up with things for Harry to do to keep him around longer. That's not necessarily the problem, though. The problem is that Harry seems to be doing the same thing as well. He's suggested a lot of different things he can do to “fix” something. He's sure at this point Harry's making things up because he doesn't think there was anything wrong with the way he'd arranged the private dining room, but, according to Harry, it was “all wrong”. 

When Louis told him to have at it, Harry beamed and said he'd add it to the list. 

Louis has a problem.

Harry's prolonging his work here just as much as Louis, so when Louis had walked in the door and Harry had appeared out of nowhere, saying, “You know, that wall in the foyer would be great for a mural of some sort. It'd be the first thing guests see when they walk in. Would be a great conversation starter. But I'm not trying to tell you what to do.” 

There's nothing particularly wrong with that wall. It is a bit plain, but Louis' not exactly looking for a conversation starter. The only reason he'd even agree to it is to keep Harry around, but there's got to be some sort of professional, moral wrong going on there. Does he really want to keep a guy working for him because he's attractive? Not really, but, perhaps Harry is right. The wall is plain.

There was nothing Louis could say that would make him the better person here. At first, all he'd said was that the wall was plain in a contemplative manner to buy him some time, but Harry had followed him through the house into the kitchen, blabbering about how he knows the best person for the job and how amazing it would be.

Louis should make his mind up soon. Harry's blinking at him with wide eyes and a hopeful expression. On one hand, now that Louis thinks about it, the entrance to his home is boring. But on the other...wait. Did Harry say he knew the best person for the job? Does that mean Harry wouldn't actually be doing it? If so, that could mean he wouldn't actually be prolonging Harry's stay, which means he doesn't have to feel guilty about it.

“Go ahead,” he says, waving a hand.

Harry beams at him. “I promise you won't regret this,” he replies, turning on his heel and heading toward the game slash bar slash what the hell is Louis doing room.

“And how much is that going to cost you?” a voice to his left asks.

Louis turns to find Liam sitting at his kitchen table with the most unamused expression Liam's capable of. If Louis looks hard enough he can see some judgment in there too.

“You didn't ask, did you?” Liam questions when Louis doesn't answer. 

“It might not have come up,” Louis replies, doing his best to not seem bothered. “Besides, you're my agent, not my accountant. Don't worry about it.”

Liam sighs, turning back to his laptop. “Let's hope you aren't spending all your money or I won't get a pay cheque.”

Reaching over to the bowl of fruit on the counter, Louis grabs an apple and tosses it at Liam's head. He misses, but it gets his point across, nonetheless, when it hits the wall and explodes. Liam yelps, clutching at his chest. 

Louis' already out of the room when Liam starts screaming at him.

**

The work on his house is done for the day and Louis' never been more thankful for the peace and quiet of living alone. Well, he would be if there were peace and quiet to be thankful for. There's loud banging coming from the kitchen, muffled curses littered in, disturbing Louis' peace.

Liam had taken it upon himself to cook Louis a proper meal tonight because, in Liam's opinion, it's sad that Louis eats mostly leftover takeaway and microwaveable meals at his age, especially since he could afford to have someone come cook for him.

If it were any of his other friends Louis would consider the gesture sincere, but he knows Liam has an ulterior motive and he knows exactly what the ulterior motive is. There's no point in Liam trying to pretend he's better than Louis when it comes to feeding himself. Louis knows Liam eats pizza and In-and-Out most of the week. He's no better than Louis and knows what he's doing in the kitchen even less than Louis does. The man can bake, though.

“You can stop,” he says, walking in and grabbing a pan out of Liam's hand. Setting it down on the counter, he adds, “I know you're here because you want me to run all my party plans by you, including my guest list.”

Liam turns to him, placing his hands on his hips. “That's not what I was doing at all.” When Louis only cocks his eyebrow, Liam visibly deflates, frowning. “Fine. Okay. I do want to know the details and the list, but I'm trying to make sure you don't forget anything or need someone to come save you in the end because you accidentally invited a fan who only wants to sleep with you.”

“That happened one time,” Louis defends.

“But had I not been there who knows what would have happened. Pretty sure she was a step away from spiking your drink.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “Should I order pizza then?”

“Yes, but make sure you don't put ham on it. You know I hate ham.”

“Ham it is!” Louis calls on his way out of the room.

**

“Well, I've got to hand it to you, Louis, this is pretty solid,” Liam tells him, leaning back on the sofa and belching.

“Told you,” Louis mumbles, leaving out the fact that he hired a party planner. Liam doesn't need to know that. “I do need to add Niall to the list,” he adds after a minute of silence.

Liam belches again, shifting so he's facing Louis. “I like Niall.”

“He went through hell and back to find me this place,” Louis says. “He's a good lad. He's a good friend.”

Liam's silent for a moment before narrowing his eyes. “Why do I feel like there's something else?”

“I'm also considering inviting Harry.”

“Oh god,” Liam breathes out, pushing himself up and off the sofa. “That's not a good idea,” he says, turning to stare down at Louis. “You, attractive interior designer, Harry, and alcohol is not a good idea. That can only lead to bad things.”

Louis sits up, brow furrowed. “I know,” he admits. “But I like him. And, I mean, he really is going above and beyond here. He doesn't have to be doing half of what he is.”

“It's probably for the money,” Liam suggests. “You are a celebrity. A very rich, famous, successful actor. The longer he sticks around and works, the more money he can squeeze out of you. Flirting with you doesn't hurt, either.”

Pursing his lips, he grabs the throw pillow and chucks it at Liam. He catches it before it hits his face, frowning down at Louis as he tosses it back to the sofa. “You know there's a possibility of me being right?”

“You know there's a possibility of you being a massive twat?” Liam starts to argue, but Louis continues. “And you think I haven't thought about that? Because I have, but _I_ genuinely like _him_ , so...”

He trails off, shrugging. Liam's expression softens and he sits back down on the sofa. “He is a nice guy, Louis, but I-. Just be careful, please. I don't want people t-.”

“If you say taking advantage of me I will throttle you.”

“Fine, fine,” Liam says, holding his hands up. “So I should add Niall Horan and Harry Styles to the guest list?”

For a second, Louis stays silent. Eventually, he nods. Grabbing another piece of pizza, he says, “But no more after that. Got it?”

**

Louis' had a long day. He had a four-thirty call time this morning, spent two hours in hair and make-up, spent the rest of the morning doing his job, then had to spend the whole afternoon in interviews and meetings with people who he couldn't care less about.

He's not complaining, but he's exhausted. All he wants is to grab some food, take a hot shower, and sleep for the rest of the week. That last bit may not be doable, but he's damn well going to try. The thing he hadn't taken into consideration was Harry and his merry band of workers.

It's almost time for them to stop for the day, which means he doesn't have to put up with it for too much longer. As his hand is reaching the doorknob, he freezes and groans. In his exhaustion, he'd almost forgotten. It makes him feel terrible, too, because he and Harry have been having these meetings since this whole thing started.

In the beginning, the pretense had been Harry giving Louis updates on the job, making sure everything was how Louis wanted it and getting answers to any last minute questions he might have come up with. Over time, while these meetings have stayed true to their nature, they've evolved into something else entirely.

They spend almost a whole two hours together talking about anything and everything, laughing and having a grand old time. It's because of these meetings Louis considers himself half in love with Harry. It's through these meetings that he's found out Harry moved out to L.A. with his business partner right after university. It wasn't his idea, but he'd been convinced and he considers it the best decision he's ever made because, although he misses his family, he loves the atmosphere out here.

Louis doesn't necessarily get what Harry means because he personally hates it out here. He'd told Harry as much and they spent the rest of the evening debating the pros and cons of living in and around L.A. He still maintains that Harry's absolutely wrong about it. (He'll never admit that he actually understood where Harry was coming from and he might have started to change his mind about it.)

It was also during one of these meetings that Louis told Harry how scary it was moving away from home to pursue something like acting, especially when he was doing it as an openly gay man. It's not something he talks about much, though many have tried to get it out of him. He's hardly even talked to Liam about it. Mostly, it's a private thing he keeps to himself, but he'd felt like he could trust Harry with it and he found himself telling him without thinking.

From there they've learned a lot about each other, shared secrets and insecurities, like Louis' fear that one day people will realize he's not talented and stop hiring him for the things he loves more than anything and Harry's fear of letting people down. That one sounded a bit stupid to Louis until Harry had explained that it was what was both preventing and encouraging him to move out here and start his own business. 

These meetings are good therapeutically, Louis guesses, but he mostly loves spending the time with Harry because he's such an amazing person and one of the few people in Louis' life that treats _him_ like an actual person. 

Most days he looks forward to meeting Harry. Only once have they not met and it was because Louis was in New York for a couple of days of promo for his current film. Louis found himself missing his kitchen table more than he should have. These meetings are what he looks forward to at the end of the day.

Today, however, he is not looking forward to it. Today, all he wants is to sleep, but he has no idea how to go about explaining that to Harry. He's sure Harry would get it, but there's also a part of him that wants to suck it up and sit with Harry at his kitchen table for two hours.

He groans again, leaning his head on the door. He's got to make a decision and he should do it quick because he's been standing out here with his hand on the doorknob for god knows how long.

Without a second thought, he throws his door open like he always does and waltzes through the foyer, except it doesn't quite happen like that.

The door bangs off of something metal, someone squeaks off to the left, and before Louis can question it, he's tripping over something big and solid and landing torso first in something wet and gooey.

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” someone behind him gasps. “Oh my god! Oh no!”

Louis pushes himself up to his knees, staring down in horror at his now aqua stained shirt. “Well, that's great,” he mutters, gingerly pulling the front of it away from his body. 

“I'm so sorry,” he hears along with the sound of rustling. “So so, very sorry, Mr. Tomlinson, sir.”

If his shirt weren't ruined with paint, Louis would laugh at the sir, but his shirt _is_ ruined with paint and he's pretty sure he's going to have a bruise on his knee now.

“Here let me help you,” the voice says as hands reach for him. Louis accepts the help, but it doesn't do much when he steps in the paint and his foot slides out from under him.

Before he can hit the floor for a second time he's crashing into a warm body, the paint slicked shirt squished between them. “Oh no,” he mutters into this person's chest.

“I'm sorry,” the man says again.

“What the hell is going on?” Harry's startled voice demands from the other side of the foyer. 

“Sorry, Harry,” the man says, releasing Louis and stepping back. “We had a bit of an accident.”

Louis snorts, glaring down at the paint. “Dry cleaning isn't going to fix this.”

“Louis,” Harry starts, but Louis holds a hand up stopping him. 

“I've had a shit day, Harold, so why don't you tell me what's happening and why I've tripped over a guy into paint in my foyer,” Louis snaps.

It comes out ruder than he'd intended and hurt momentarily flashes through Harry's eyes before he's quickly composing himself and stepping forward.

“Sorry, you said you wanted the mural, so this is, uh Zayn. Zayn Malik,” he says, gesturing to the man also covered in paint next to him. “My business partner. He's quite good and I thought he'd be best for the job. I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you he was coming today.”

“Well, really, it was my fault,” Zayn begins, moving next to Harry to face Louis. “I shouldn't have been in the way.”

“Right,” Louis draws out. His shirt is sticking to him uncomfortably and his head is starting to hurt. “Right,” he says again, looking down at his shirt. “This is not good.” He looks back up to Harry and Zayn, who are watching him hesitantly. “I'm going to go shower and go to bed.”

He starts toward the stairs, stopping to add to Harry, “Make sure you lock the door on your way out.”

He ignores the way Harry's face falls, ignores hearing Zayn say, “Thought you said he was an amazingly perfect person,” and makes his way to his shower.

**

Louis was a dick earlier – a _massive_ one – and he felt guilty through his whole shower and the time he spent trying to sleep in the guest room as people were still in his master bath. He should apologize to Harry and Zayn. What happened was neither of their faults and Louis was downright rude and dismissive.

Everyone's left by the time he manages to push himself off the guest bed and into the hallway, which he was expecting. It's well past the work day for them. He'll have to apologize tomorrow, he tells himself walking down the stairs.

He stops halfway down them, though, when he catches sight of what Zayn was painting when Louis crashed into him. It's unfinished, but still breath-taking. Shades of green and blue swirling together to create something abstract.

Louis knows next to nothing about art other than what looks nice to him, but this is-. It's fucking beautiful, is what it is, and Harry was definitely right about it being a conversation starter. 

Seeing it makes him feel worse, though, because he'd snapped at Harry and not even properly introduced himself to Zayn, who's spending his time working on something as amazing as this.

Louis' a horrible person. And he missed out on his thing with Harry. Harry probably won't ever want to speak to him again, he thinks miserably as he finishes his descent down the stairs. The mural will probably sit unfinished, as well.

As he's coming through the hallway he hears someone softly humming and he freezes. Surely a robber wouldn't hum, right? Or had Liam decided to come over unannounced again? But Liam doesn't hum. He sings at the top of lungs.

Slowly going into the kitchen, he sees it's neither of those things, but Harry packing up his bag at the table. His laptop, notebooks, swatches and whatever else he has with him spread out on it. The table has sort of become Harry's office while he's here working during the day. It's how their meetings started because Louis came in to get food while Harry was packing up.

Louis doesn't mind him taking his table or his kitchen, but he's often wondered why Harry doesn't use Louis' office during the day. It's a silly thought, really, because why would he? It's Louis' office in his house. Maybe Harry should have an office.

He shakes his head at himself and walks further into the room. Harry still hasn't noticed him, so when he says, “Thought you would have left by now,” he startles, dropping his bag onto the floor.

“Sorry,” he mutters, picking the bag up and continuing to pack it. “I just had a few things to take care of. I'll be out just as soon as I finish packing.”

He doesn't look at Louis as he says it and Louis' heart breaks a bit. Harry's obviously worried about Louis' mood, as he should be, but there's a part of Louis that wonders if he was meaner than he thought or if Harry's more sensitive than he thought. 

Either way, Louis was a dick earlier and hurt Harry's feelings.

“I'm sorry about earlier,” he says quietly. “I've not had a great day and I've been awake since three this morning. All I wanted to do was come home and sleep.” Harry finally stops packing his bag and looks at him. “And I-.” Louis pauses, sighing. “I was a dick earlier and I shouldn't have been. None of that was your or Zayn's fault.”

“Oh, I know that,” Harry says, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Zayn not so much.”

“I will apologize to him first chance I get tomorrow and I'll even invite him to my Oscar's party,” Louis tells him. “I really am sorry. I didn't mean to snap.”

Harry considers him for a moment, expression softening even more as he does. “Apology accepted, I guess.”

Louis lets out a breathy sort of laugh, walking to the fridge. With his back to Harry, he rummages around inside for nothing. “And I'm sorry we missed our date.”

As soon as it's out of his mouth he wants to take it back. He didn't mean to say date and he didn't mean for it to sound as miserable as it did. 

“Date?” he hears Harry ask. “Wasn't aware that's what it was.”

Louis sighs, shutting the fridge door and turning. “Well, you know,” he shrugs. “We missed it.”

Harry's brow furrows. “I'm still here, though,” he points out, glancing around the room. “And I have nowhere to be.”

It's said so casually, but with the smallest amount of hope that Louis can feel his insides glowing.

“What a coincidence. Neither do I.”

**

As it turned out, Zayn's a cool guy.

Which is great. The problem with him, though, is he seems to have a hard time holding it together around celebrities he's a fan of. According to Harry, it's why during their first meeting Zayn didn't snap back at Louis for snapping at Harry. Louis almost wishes he would have because he still feels bad about it.

Louis had asked Harry what Zayn does when someone he's a fan of hires them to do a job. Harry told him he usually takes those jobs so Zayn doesn't have to embarrass himself. In turn, Zayn does the same for Harry, though, Harry swears that doesn't happen to him.

But Zayn can't hold it together around famous people so it was maybe a bad idea to invite him to this party. For the most part, he's been okay, sticking to Harry, Liam, Niall or Louis, so he's not interacting with Louis' guests as much, but Louis' seen him get wide-eyed more than a few times and stuttering like mad whenever someone compliments the mural.

Harry's been pleasantly sociable. Everyone seems to like him and he doesn't have a hard time making conversation with people. More than once tonight Louis' caught jealousy overcoming him when Harry's attention has been focused on someone else. He thinks the alcohol might have something to do with it, so he's trying to keep himself away from Harry, lest he do something stupid like pull him into a dark corner and snog the shit out of him.

It's why he's found himself a spot near the bar with Niall for the time being. Harry's outside somewhere the last time Louis saw him, far away from Louis.

“Harry did an amazing job with this,” Niall's saying when Louis tunes in.

“Yeah, he did,” he agrees.

It is immaculate. The wood is exquisite, the flooring is amazing, the billiard table was a nice touch, and the room itself has a nice calming, mysterious quality to it. It doesn't match the rest of the house, exactly, but Harry was right about the windows. During the day, if they're open, the room sort of gets a new feel to it. 

Louis loves it.

“What do you think about Harry?” Niall asks, shifting on his stool.

“Why are we talking about him?” Louis counters. “This is my party and I lost out to Brad Pitt tonight. I'd like to brood.”

Niall smirks. “You weren't even nominated tonight. And Brad Pitt was last year,” he points out. “Matt Damon won tonight.”

“Drat,” Louis says, hitting the bar with his fist. “And I thought I put on a great 'Even though I lost I'm happy you won' face.”

“Shut up and tell me about Harry.”

Louis sighs. Niall's not going to let this go. “He's amazing.”

Niall quirks an eyebrow. “That's it? He's amazing? You aren't going to drunkenly wax poetic?”

“Not drunk.”

“Okay.”

Louis' about to respond, but Zayn's running up to him, grabbing his arm. “Chris Evans is here,” he gasps out. “Why did no one tell me?”

“Right,” Louis draws out, sliding off his stool. “You have fun,” he adds, patting Zayn on the arm.

Avoiding Niall's knowing look, he walks out of the room, stopping to have a few obligatory conversations with some of his guests. 

As he's passing through the main living area, Harry pops out of nowhere, cutting him off. 

“You know, Louis,” he starts, stumbling when someone bumps into him, “I've been meaning to tell you since the first day that the placement of your sofa is magnificent.”

His words are slightly slurring and his pupils are wide. Louis wants to kiss him.

“Really?” he asks. 

Harry nods. “Most people would have put it in front of the fireplace instead of the windows, but these windows-. There's too much of a view for the sofa to be in front of the fire. Did a good job putting chairs there.”

Louis chuckles, scratching at his cheek. “Harold, I think you need some water.”

“No, I'm fine,” Harry insists, holding both hands up to show they're empty. “I mean, I'm a little, you know, but I'm fine.”

“Surely you don't talk about your job when you're drunk then?”

“No, but you've been avoiding me tonight and I thought it'd be the only thing you'd talk to me about,” he says, eyes glowing. “I just want to talk to you, Louis. I like you.”

He says it so honestly and openly and Louis knows Harry wouldn't be saying it if he'd not been drinking, but it's the truth and Louis feels like an arse. 

He'd been avoiding Harry because he was afraid of what might happen if they were drinking together. Louis' notorious for getting flirty and touchy when he's been drinking and all his mind has been for weeks is Harry. 

Harry is all he wants and it's starting to hurt, but he doesn't think that whatever it is he could get from Harry is professional, moral or ethical. He's paying Harry to decorate and remodel his house. Louis can't sleep with him, as well, no matter how mutual the feeling may be.

Despite that, Louis grabs Harry's hand and drags him through the crowd and toward the stairs. No one pays any attention to them and Harry follows along silently. It's not until they're at the top of the stairs does he realize what he's doing and what Harry might be thinking it means.

Truthfully, Louis doesn't know what the purpose of this is, but Harry was being so honest because Louis' been ignoring him and what kind of piece of shit does that to Harry Styles?

The upstairs of the house is relatively empty. Louis had made sure to give his guests more than enough entertainment and reasons to stay on the lower level and outside because he didn't want people coming up here to fuck on his beds or see his half-finished bathroom. 

On his way to his room, he hears a couple in the one guest rooms. One of members of the couple sounds suspiciously like Liam and he makes a mental note to burn the mattress and sheets and to question Liam about this relentlessly in the morning.

Once in his room, he pulls Harry in, closing the door behind them and locking it.

When he turns around Harry's standing in the center of the room, his hands clasped in front of him and eyes wide. “What were you thinking?” Louis asks. “Why would say that? You can't just go around saying that.”

Harry blinks twice before his shoulders slump forward a bit. “Sorry. I didn't mean-. I just thought-. You ha-,” he stutters about for a while before he shakes his head and stands straight. “I was being honest,” he says.

“I know,” Louis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know and that's the problem because when you say things like that. It makes me feel like I can have whatever I want. And I can't.”

He slumps against the door, watching as Harry's brow furrows. “Why can't you?”

“You're working for me, Harry. I'm sure that's a problem.”

Harry walks forward, closing the distance between them. “I don't think that's a problem,” he says, his breath fanning out on Louis' face as he braces himself on the wall with his hand.

“You might not now,” Louis says, tilting his head up to look at him. “But you will eventually.”

“Then that's future me's problem,” he replies. “Look, I get whatever it is you're trying to say and maybe if I were sober I'd feel the same, but I don't care right now. I like you a lot, Louis, whether I'm working for you or not.”

“Yeah, okay,” Louis snorts, looking away.

“I do.” Harry gingerly reaches up and tilts his head up so they're looking at each other again. “You're like an amazing person to just like sit and admire what you're like.”

A laugh startles out of Louis. “That sounds so creepy.”

“It's the truth, though.”

“You just sit and watch me all day, do you?”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Harry replies. He gently brings his hand to cup Louis' neck, his expression turning serious. “You can have whatever you want,” he whispers.

Louis should walk right now, pretend this never happened and go back to their professional relationship before everything can implode, but Louis' been accused of being selfish many times and he wants Harry. He grabs at Harry's shirt and pulls him in, connecting the lips a lot softer than he'd meant.

It's electric and a hell of a lot more than Louis was prepared for. Harry's lips are soft and pliant as Louis deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue in. At some point Louis' hand tangles in Harry's hair and pulls him even closer, their legs slotted together.

Harry's letting out gasps of air between kisses that send shock waves through Louis' body. While the kiss is slow, it's deep and there's an urgency there that has Louis unbuttoning Harry's shirt with a practiced ease that he'd point out if Harry didn't have him pinned to the wall. 

He starts running his hand up and down Harry's chest as they kiss, occasionally flicking at one of Harry's nipples. They kiss like that for a while, their cocks hardening and brushing against each other through the layers of their clothes. It's tantalizing and half of Louis wants to do this now, but the other half wants to drag this out for as long as possible.

Harry makes the decision for him eventually, pulling away and trying to even out his breath. “I want to blow you,” he says. “Please let me blow.”

Louis lets his head fall back and rest on the door. The music from downstairs is muffled and he tries focusing on that. He fails. “Jesus Christ, Harold.” 

“Was that a yes?” Harry asks hopefully.

“Dear god yes.”

Harry ducks back in, kissing him harder this time as he starts pulling Louis' shirt off him. They break the kiss long enough for him to pull the shirt off completely off and throw it away.

“God, you're beautiful,” Harry breathes out, tracing Louis' side with his hand. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Harry takes the time to suck a bruise onto Louis' skin right above his collarbone and by the end of it, Louis' so fucking hard that he's basically riding Harry's thigh.

“Oh my god, Harry. Please.”

Pulling away, Harry smirks at him, reaching between them and palming at Louis' cock through his clothes. Louis arches off the wall, moaning, eyes slipping shut as Harry starts kissing down his chest. Once he's on his knees, Harry unbuttons Louis' jeans and pulls them down to his ankles, leaving his pants on. He mouths at Louis' clothes cock a couple of times before slipping his fingers under the waistband and slowly pulling them down.

Louis' cock springs free and Harry licks his lips, gently reaching for it. He peppers kisses up and down the shaft once before flicking his tongue out and licking the tip. Louis' hips twitch as a breathy moan escapes his lips. Harry grips his hip with his free hand and pushes him back toward the wall.

With his other hand he runs his finger over Louis' slit and starts spreading the precome with a couple of pumps. “I've been wanting to do this for so long,” he admits quietly before slowly taking Louis into his mouth.

All at once everything becomes hot and heady and his mind is a steady stream of _Harry Harry Harry_ as Harry takes him in halfway, sucking lightly and pumping at the base. His hand slips into Harry's hair, holding tight, but not doing anything else. Harry moans, sending vibrations through Louis' body and Louis, against his will, whines.

Harry smiles around his dick before he starts bobbing his head, every now and then pulling off enough to tongue at his tip. He's going slow, which is only dragging more high pitched whines from Louis, but Harry's working up to something, he can tell so he lets Harry do his thing.

Pulling off completely, Harry pumps his cock a couple of times and takes a deep breath. This time when he takes Louis in he doesn't stop halfway, doesn't stop until his nose is brushing Louis' coarse hair and skin. He holds that position for a second before swallowing around him.

Louis moans, his grip in Harry's hair tightening, and if it weren't for Harry's hand holding him to the wall his hips would buck up. Harry swallows harder, his throat working around Louis' dick and the heat is incredible, but almost too much.

Harry bobs his head, dragging his tongue up his shaft each time, and then pulls off completely. Looking up at Louis, he chokes out, “Fuck my mouth.”

“Fucking hell,” Louis groans, getting a better grip on Harry's hair as Harry opens his mouth and waits, releasing the pressure on Louis' hips.

Louis guides himself into Harry's mouth slowly, stopping when he feels himself hit Harry's throat and stays like that for a moment. Harry's staring up at him, eyes glistening and pupils wide. Even as Louis starts thrusting into his mouth, Harry never breaks eye contact.

It's nothing like he's experienced before. It's grounding and electric and _Harry_ staring up at him with his bright green eyes as Louis uses him. His thrusting starts to become erratic and his grip in Harry's hair is so tight he's sure it's painful.

Harry's hands on his hips tighten ever so slightly and for some reason that's what does it for Louis. He comes white and hot down Harry's throat, Harry swallowing as Louis' eyes slip shut and his head falls back to the door again. He's whining again and anyone walking by could hear, but he doesn't care.

Harry pulls back and when Louis looks at him his eyes are watery and there's a bit of come on his chin. “Fuck,” Louis breathes out, pulling on Harry's hair for him to stand up. Harry does, letting Louis pull him into a kiss.

Louis kisses him like that for a minute, coming back to himself and stepping out of his clothes, before gently pushing at Harry's shoulders. Harry pulls away with a questioning look.

“Bed,” Louis says, pulling Harry back into the kiss, but guiding him backwards to the bed. As they go, Louis slides Harry's shirt down his arms, not breaking the kiss. Harry lets it fall to the floor, trampled by their feet, and Louis unbuttons his jeans. Before he can get those off of Harry, the backs of Harry's knees are hitting the mattress and they collapse on it.

“Fuck,” Harry gasps as Louis lands on top of his. “Shit.”

Louis quickly sits himself up, perching on Harry's thighs. “God, you're fucking beautiful, Harry,” Louis tells him, pulling Harry's jeans and pants down to knees. 

Harry's staring up at him with wide eyes, his hands on Louis' hips. “Ride me, ride me, ride me,” he chants. “Please.”

Louis hadn't exactly meant for that to happen, but dear god does he want it now that Harry's said it. He nods, reaching to the bedside table and pulling out lube and a condom. When he sets them on the mattress beside them, Harry starts to reach for the lube, but Louis smacks his hand out of the way. “Normally, I'd let you, but this way will be quicker.”

Without another word, he slicks up his fingers and starts opening himself up while he sits on Harry's thighs. “Oh shit,” Harry mumbles, his head falling onto the mattress and hand slowly pumping his own cock.

Louis' cock is getting harder again as he works himself open. He's careful, but quick and soon enough he's ready. Ducking down to kiss Harry he grabs the condom, opening it and helping Harry put it on.

He shuffles around a little, grabbing Harry's cock and slowly lowering himself down. Harry gasps, hands on Louis' hips again. “Fuck,” he says, mewling a little. “Fucking amazing arse.”

As Louis settles himself completely, Harry moans, throwing his head back, exposing his throat. Louis leans forward, mouthing at his jaw, making his way down to his throat and starts moving. He starts out slowly at first, but works his way into a faster rhythm, Harry moaning and thrusting slightly below him.

Harry's cock grazes his prostate and Louis gasps. The grip Harry has on his hips tightens for a moment, then Harry's moving his hands down to cup Louis' arse, guiding him as he bounces back on his cock. With every other bounce, Harry's cock is hitting his prostate and Louis can feel his second orgasm building.

“Shit, okay,” he says, stopping and grabbing at Harry's shoulders.

“What? What's wrong?” Harry asks, letting go of him and propping up on his elbows.

“Nothing, just-. Sit up,” Louis says between breaths. “Sit up.”

Louis lets Harry slip out of him as Harry sits up. His feet are pretty much on the floor, but he's still on the bed enough so Louis can easily position himself on his lap.

“Oh fuck,” Harry growls as Louis shuffles around, lining Harry's cock up.

Once he's completely seated in Harry's lap with Harry's cock in him, he takes a minute to breath. Then, pressing a kiss to Harry's mouth, he starts working himself into a steady rhythm. They don't break the kiss as Louis rides him and Harry starts thrusting up to meet his bounces, one hand on Louis' waist, the other on his arse.

Both Louis' bouncing and Harry's thrusting are getting jerky. They're both close so he picks up his pace. “You're so good,” he mutters. “So so good.”

Whimpering, Harry drops his head into Louis' neck and wraps his hand around Louis' dick and starts jerking him off in time to Louis' bounces.  
“Come on, babe,” Louis encourages. “Come on.”  
It doesn't take much longer before Harry's body is tensing and he's spilling into the condom, repeating Louis' name over and over as his orgasm courses through him. With Harry still jerking him, Louis comes for the second time between them.

They're still kissing lazily as they come down and Harry wipes his hand on the duvet. “Fucking amazing,” Louis mutters between kisses.

Harry hums in agreement as he falls back onto the mattress, bringing Louis with him. They continuing kissing and that's the last thing Louis remembers before falling asleep on Harry's chest.

**

At first, when he wakes up in the morning, the only thing he thinks is wrong is his hangover, but then he shifts a bit and feels a solid presence beside him.

And just like that everything from the night before comes rushing back to him and he groans, which is a mistake because the pain in his head gets worse, but that makes him groan again.

“Shh,” Harry's muffled voice says. “Head hurts.”

“Thought you were fine,” Louis comments, recalling what Harry had said last night.

Harry makes some sort of odd noise in response. Louis slowly turns over, his stomach sloshing in the process. Harry's face down in the pillow, hair knotted and cascading over his shoulders. He's got a nice back, Louis thinks casually before remembering the massive problem that is in front of him.

“You need to get up,” he says, closing his eyes as the room goes wonky for a second. Harry stays silent so he tries again. “Come on, Harry, don't make this difficult.”

“No.”

Louis pushes himself up, bracing himself for the nausea to hit. Once it's passed, he nudges Harry's shoulder. “Harold.”

At that, Harry gasps, pushing himself up so quickly he can't right himself and he tumbles off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud “oomph”. 

There's a second of silence before Harry's muffled “Ow.” 

“You okay?” Louis calls to him.

“No,” Harry calls back.

Louis hears some shuffling before Harry's arm becomes visible, reaching for the bed. Once he's found it, Harry hauls himself up and off the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Louis.

“I drank more than I thought,” he says quietly. “I didn't mean for this to happen.”

Louis' heart drops. Does Harry actually regret it? Or does he not, but he's not sure how Louis' going to react so he's trying to play it off like he does? The hopeful part of his brain hopes it's the latter, but Louis will never know. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Still, he hopes Harry doesn't regret it. Louis thinks, despite being incredibly hungover right now, that last night was probably the best night of his life. It's only second behind the night he won his first Oscar. Some small part of his brain had hoped that last night meant the same for Harry as it did him. He'd thought that if it did it would give him motivation to come up with a way to ease his reservations about the whole thing.

He hadn't stopped to think about what this meant for Harry. He's assumed that Harry felt the same because of the interactions they've had together up until that point. But then Harry did say that stuff last night. That has to count for something.

Yet, he wonders if maybe Liam was right and Harry was only acting that way because he could get bragging rights or whatever the hell it was Liam thought. If that's the case, not only would he owe Liam an apology, he'd be horribly heartbroken.

“Oh, well, that's nice to know,” Louis says with some bite to it. “Cheers.”

Harry's body jerks and he turns to face Louis. His brow is furrowed and for a moment only stares. “That's not what I meant,” he rushes out eventually. “I just-. Last night meant a lot to me,” he says, looking down at the bed. “I didn't want to be intoxicated if that were to ever happen because I really do like you, Louis. I mean, I remember, but now I can't be for sure what that meant to you.”

Bringing his knees up, he rests his arms on them and drops his head, sighing. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Okay.”

“I don't really know what's okay,” Harry says hesitantly.

“Harry, I really fucking like you,” Louis starts. “And last night was fucking incredible, but I-.” He pauses, running a hand through his hair as he looks up. “I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“Because I technically work for you?” Louis nods. “I don't think it's that big of a deal.”

“I do,” Louis tells him. “Look, if we were normal people I wouldn't care as much, but if people knew I was sleeping with someone I was paying to work for me, it wouldn't look good for either of us.”

Harry's silent for while, picking at a loose thread on the duvet. “Do you really care what people think?”

“Not of me,” he says, though it's somewhat a lie, just not in this case. “I care what they think of you,” he clarifies. “If people thought whatever it is they'd think from this then you'd either never get another job or people would hire you _thinking_ they'd get to sleep with you. I don't want that for you.”

“That's a bit extreme, don't you think?”

Louis shrugs. “Maybe, but it's how I feel.”

“So, you'd let what could potentially be a really fucking amazing thing go because of what people might possibly think of me?”

“Yup.”

“I can't figure out if that's incredibly infuriating and stupid or insufferably selfless of you.”

Louis makes a noncommittal noise, dropping his head again. This is not how he wanted any of this to go. And maybe he's being paranoid or whatever, but he knows how this industry works. He knows the ability these people have to drag Harry's name through the mud. 

Nobody deserves that, least of all Harry.

“What if I wasn't working for you?” Harry wonders.

“Are you quitting?” Louis retorts, looking over at him.

Harry frowns. “No. I've started. Now I have to finish. It'd be too much work to bring someone else in to finish the job. Everyone's styles are different.”

“Zayn couldn't?”

“Nope.” Harry scratches at the back of his neck. “What if you fire me?”

“That'd look even worse,” Louis sighs. “And I'd still need someone to finish.”

They both sigh, bodies curling into themselves. “What do we do then?” Harry asks him.

That's a damn good question, Louis thinks. This was much easier when he thought this was a thing he could control, but he lost control and the car veered off into another lane that he doesn't know how to drive in. He can't take control back.

There's a part of him that feels like he's being ridiculous, that if they both want this then they should try it, but the bigger, louder part of him is yelling that this is a bad idea, that even if Harry didn't work for him, he still wouldn't want to bring Harry into this life of no privacy, hectic schedules, and people always wanting something from you even if you've got nothing left to give.

He doesn't want to see Harry have to go through that. His family gets enough shit as it just by being related to him. He couldn't imagine what Harry would have to go through.

“You're thinking too hard,” Harry mutters.

“Would you believe me if I said that I really would love for you to be here like all the time, in my life all the time, but that I don't think this is a good idea?”

“Are you about to suggest something that's going to make you suffer because you're protecting me?”

Louis breathes out through his nose. “Harry, you like your privacy and you like things to be organized and you don't like people barging in on your life. That's all you'd get with me. Lack of privacy, no organization, little alone time. I don't think you'd be happy.”

“Shouldn't I get to make that decision?”

“Probably,” Louis admits. “But there's something else.”

He thinks about not mentioning it because it sounds ridiculous in his head, but it's something that he worries about because he's had experience with it. It's why Liam's so protective and normally Louis tries to not think about it, to push it away because one bad person doesn't make all of them bad, but he was burned once. He doesn't want to be burned again.

And if Harry was the one that burned him, he doesn't think he'd recover from it because somehow Harry has dug his way deeply into him and no matter how much Louis tries to shake him he can't. Louis might actually be in love with him.

“I just-. How can I be sure you aren't in this because of what I am, not who I am?” he manages to get out, avoiding Harry's gaze.

“Are you asking if I'm using you for your money and name?” 

Harry doesn't sound offended, more curious than anything, but Louis still doesn't look at him. “I'm not trying to offend you-.”

“I'm not offended.”

“But I tried this before with someone who wasn't like me,” he explains. “He was studying to become a pediatrician. And I thought it was something more than it was. Turns out he just wanted my money and the fame of being seen with me. And when we broke up, he tried to sell things about me to the tabloids. Liam shut that down quickly, but that's when I learned what kind of person he truly was and what he was really doing with me.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry whispers when Louis' done. “But that's not me,” he says, voice normal now. “That guy, whoever he was and wherever he is now, is a dick and clearly didn't deserve a thing from you.”

“That doesn't really prove anything, Harry,” Louis points out.

“I know,” Harry agrees. “I'm just saying, he's a dick. But there's nothing much I can do to prove otherwise,” he adds. “I mean, I already know things about you most people don't.”

“Which was stupid on my part,” Louis interrupts. “Normally I don't trust people that easily.”

“Right,” Harry draws out. “But I've not told anyone about any of it yet. And I have more than enough money than I need. And, not that you'll believe this, but I've actually been charging you less than I would any of my other clients. Ask Zayn. He threw a big enough fit about it when he found out. I'm not after your money or whatever I could get from your name. I just want you.”

It's sincere and breaks Louis' heart a little more. “Harry,” he sighs. “I'm just not sure this is a good idea.”

Harry stays quiet for a long time, turning away from him to stare out the window. “Maybe we should just have a professional relationship,” he suggests after some time.

Louis suspects it's a lot harder for him to say than he's making it seem. “We can't just be friends?”

“I don't think I can _just be_ anything with you,” Harry replies, sighing. “But if that's what you want, okay.” He pauses, turning back to him. “Is that what you want?”

“I don't know.”

**

They'd gotten out of bed without having anything solved and Louis' hangover felt ten times worse than it was. He's sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands as Harry's walking out because life fucking sucks.

When Harry gets to the hall, he hears the door open and voices before the door is closing and Liam's walking in with a magazine and a confused expression.

“He's here early,” he comments. Louis ignores him, dropping his head to the table. “Did he stay?” Liam continues. “He sort of disappeared last night. I thought he went home.” He hears Liam come over to the table and stand. “But then again, you disappeared too.”

“Oh just get on with it,” Louis begs into the wood of the table. 

Liam sighs. “Somehow, a journalist got in last night and there's a picture of you and Harry going upstairs and a nice headline to boot.” 

He tosses something on the table and Louis manages to lift his head enough to look at it. It's some shitty tabloid and on the front cover is a very blurry picture of what is clearly Louis leading someone up the stairs. The accompanying headline is a play on his “Oscar Night Celebration”.

“Thankfully,” Liam continues, “they can't tell who Harry is by the picture, so it shouldn't be a problem, but I'll be looking into it.”

Louis grunts, dropping his head back to the table. 

“Want to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“You need to talk about it.”

Louis, with his head on the table the whole time, tells Liam everything that happened, including their conversation this morning and how nothing is okay. Liam, uncharacteristically, stays quiet, listening the whole time with pity in his eyes.

“Louis, don't be stupid,” he says when Louis' finished. “Harry obviously wants the same thing you do, so have it.”

Lifting his head off the table, Louis stares at Liam with his mouth wide open.

“What?” Liam asks.

“Weren't you the one trying to tell me Harry was taking advant-.”

“I never said that,” Liam argues. “I said he _could_ have been. Besides, that's before I knew he was undercharging you for these jobs.”

“You knew that too! Did everyone know that but me?”

Liam considers it for a moment, before saying, “I think Niall might not.”

Groaning again, Louis pushes away from the table and stands. “Okay, but what about everything else?”

“Harry's a good lad, Lou,” Liam tells him. “I never liked what's-his-name at all. _Harry_ genuinely likes you. It's hard not to tell. Maybe you should put your reservations about it all aside and, you know, be with him.”

“I don't know,” he says. “I've got a lot going on now and-.”

Liam harshly stands up, brow furrowed and pointing his finger into Louis' chest. “Don't make excuses. If you're scared, that's fine, but do not make excuses. It isn't just your decision to make either. It's part Harry's. If he says he's okay with this shit then he's okay with it.”

“He doesn't know what all that entails,” Louis tries, but Liam cuts him off, shaking his head.

“I think he might know more than you think. Just don't make a decision completely on your own is all I'm saying.”

“I can't,” Louis tells him, backing away.

Liam stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, be stubborn. I have things to go do.”

Without another word, Liam stalks out of the kitchen, leaving the tabloid on the table. Louis glares over it for a long time before he decides to text Harry about it.

He takes a picture of the magazine and sends it to him, apologizing and explaining that no one should figure out who he is.

Harry never replies.

**

It was a stupid decision and things have been weird between them.

Harry's not been staying for their after work meetings. He's been giving Louis excuses for it and, while he's sure some of them are real, it still hurts because before they slept together Harry would stay, no matter what. The meetings aren't important to Louis. _Harry's_ important to him. Without the meetings Louis doesn't see Harry much because by the time Louis gets home from the studio it's the end of the work day and Harry and his people are packing up to leave.

His interactions with Harry have been limited in the past couple of weeks. What little interaction they have had has been stilted and generally unpleasant for both of them, which is a far cry different than how they'd been before. And that's something else that's different.

Louis' started thinking of things in terms of before and after they slept together. If he could go back in time, he'd stop them from taking that step so there wouldn't be a before and after. Things were better before. They could actually hold a conversation, look each other in the eye, and not second guess every little thing they said or did around one another. It's tiring and annoying.

Since that night, Louis' been racking his brain for ways to fix this. He knows it's mostly his fault, therefore, the responsibility of fixing it lies with him. The problem is, he doesn't know how to fix it. What he said to Harry that morning still holds true, but it's occurred to him that he may have been overreacting a bit. And Liam's suggestion of him being scared might have been true as well.

The fact of the matter is, yes, he's scared. He has been for a while because he's been fucked over before and his self-preservation instincts kicked in. Those same instincts have kept him so stagnant in his previous relationships that nothing was ever real enough for him to follow through with. He couldn't be scared because he _knew_ nothing would come of it.

But Harry broke through that somehow. His walls crumbled quickly and before he knew it Harry was something real. Whatever he wanted with Harry suddenly became tangible and his fear bubbled to the surface. His self-preservation went to another level and he said things to Harry that, while truthful in most respects, weren't good enough reasons.

Honestly, Louis couldn't give less of a damn what people would think about Harry having worked for him. It was only something he said in hopes that it would placate Harry. It didn't, so he switched to whatever else it was he said about his past relationship. It was all true, but Louis doesn't believe for a second that Harry would do that.

Harry's worth a lot more than Louis gave him that morning. Hell, even if Louis is scared Harry is worth it. He just doesn't know how to go about fixing this. Surely, talking about it would help, but Harry can barely look at him. There's only so much trying Louis can go through. Of course, he could try harder, but his own embarrassment is hindering him a lot.

And he's running out of time. Harry's work here is nearly finished and he's worried that once Harry is done they'll never see each other again, whether it's from a lack of trying on their parts due to their embarrassment or something else entirely. It's not completely unfounded to think. Louis' lost contact with a lot of people for no reason at all. The thing he can hope for is that his feelings for Harry will keep that from happening.

Or maybe keeping Harry around longer will give him time to come up with something. The problem with _that_ is he's not entirely sure there's anything else that needs to be done. Harry's already done what Louis asked, which has turned out to be most of the house, including the pool house. The only rooms Harry hasn't touched are the kitchen, main living area and two of the guest rooms.

Nothing needs to be done in any of those, though. Unless he can make something up, which is proving harder than he'd thought.

Groaning, Louis drops his head against this desk. He's been trying to read over a script Liam thought he'd be interested in for over an hour and so far he's on page three. The only thing he's managing to think about is Harry and that's not good for his mental health or his career.

He hears muffled footsteps and he groans again, starting to bang his forehead against the desk.

“Uh, Lou?” he hears from the doorway. “You okay?”

Louis looks up, wincing at the pain in his head now. Liam's standing with his hand on the door frame as he leans into the room, brow furrowed and lips pulled down. “No,” he replies.

Liam watches him for a moment, narrowing his eyes. Louis sighs, sinks back in his chair and waits for Liam to make the decision to come into the room and ask. It doesn't take him long before he's sitting in the chair across from Louis, setting his papers and phone on the edge of the desk.

“What's up?” he asks, crossing his legs.

“I can't come up with anything else for Harry to do,” he admits, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“You still want to keep him around?” Liam questions, his voice laced with uncertainty. “Isn't that like abusing your power or something along those lines?” 

“Dunno, but he could always say no if it bothered him that much,” Louis mumbles, opening his eyes. There's a spider on the ceiling. He should kill it. Or, at the very least, tell Liam about it so he freaks out. “I wish I could just get him to talk to me.”

Liam frowns. “Louis,” he sighs. “You're not doing a very good job of reaching out to him. And I'm not sure keeping him around in this capacity is the best idea.”

“Of course, it's not,” Louis snaps, sitting up in his chair. “We need to talk, but I don't know where to begin because it's my fault. I'm the one that said that shit and now I have to be the one that says, sorry, Harry, but I made a mistake. Let's try this after all.”

Pausing, he takes a deep breath and slumps back in his chair again. “I don't-. Harry was going along with this because I said to and I was being ridiculous. I know that now. But-.”

“You're not good at admitting you were wrong,” Liam finishes.

Louis nods. “So, I'm working on it.”

“Okay. Just don't make it worse,” Liam tells him. “Niall told me Harry's been miserable and-.” He cuts himself off, shaking his head. “Just don't make it worse.”

“Yeah.”

Liam stays for a second longer before pushing himself up, grabbing his things and walking toward the door. When he's out in the hall, he yells to Louis, “And read that script!”

“Yeah!” Louis calls back, dropping his head back to the desk. 

He doesn't read the script.

**

He's still not been able to talk to Harry outside of quick exchanges of hello's. He's run out of time. For the time being, anyway.

Because of work, in a couple of days he's going on location in Atlanta for several weeks. He wanted to have this thing with Harry sorted before then and, obviously, it's not the ideal situation for him to be leaving when things aren't fixed between them, but, and Liam seems to agree, maybe spending some time away and focusing on work will help him sort through his thoughts.

Hopefully.

And, hopefully, tonight doesn't end in something that will make things worse.

Niall had suggested that, since Louis was disappearing for a couple of weeks, they should get together for a lads night type of thing, but it's ended up being them lounging in Louis' house with pizza and beer. It's certainly not what Niall had started planning last week, but Harry – maybe trying to get out of spending extra time with Louis – had said he'd be tired from working all day and wouldn't feel like going out.

They'd decided to invite Zayn, too, and he'd agreed. Never mind the fact that Louis' been up since four and was at the studio by four-thirty. Liam had been all too happy to going clubbing or whatever the hell it was Niall was planning, but, since the rest of them weren't, Niall changed his plans.

Louis hadn't exactly wanted to agree to this due to his worry about what would happen with Harry, but Niall's not someone who's easy to disappoint. He'd accepted, begrudgingly, and he's got a feeling Harry did, too, as Niall caught him trying to sneak out earlier. Harry tried covering it up by saying he was just putting stuff in his car, but they all know it was a lie.

Still, they let it go and Niall drug his arse back inside and plopped him down on the sofa, where he's stayed for the past two hours.

For the most part, Louis' done a good job of ignoring the problem for the night, but Zayn keeps sending him less than friendly looks. It's uncomfortable, but he's soldiering on.

“So, let me ask you something, Louis,” Zayn starts, setting his drink on the coffee table and leaning back in his chair. “Do you know Sebastian Stan?”

Louis takes a sip of his beer, swallowing before answering. “I haven't worked with him, no.”

The hopeful look on Zayn's face dims momentarily before he asks, “But have you met him?”

“No.”

Zayn's expression drops and he sinks further into the chair. “Oh, I thought you would have.”

“No,” he says. “But I hear he's great,” he adds when Zayn starts to frown even harder. He finds Zayn's obsession with actors entertaining and he hates to disappoint him. 

“Cool.”

“I did his kitchen,” Harry speaks up, taking a drink of his own beer with a spark of amusement in his eye.

Zayn whips around so fast Louis thinks his neck nearly breaks. “You didn't tell me that!” he exclaims, throwing his arms out. “Why didn't you tell me that!”

“I knew you'd freak,” Harry reasons.

“I would not have.”

Harry stays quiet, quirking an eyebrow. Zayn crosses his arms and leans back, mumbling about how he doesn't freak out and Louis can't help the small smile he gets watching the scene play out in front of him. Of course, that's ruined when Niall speaks.

“Uh, I have a question,” Niall starts hesitantly. “And at the risk of starting something, but who is Sebastian Stan?”

“Oh god,” Louis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You should not have said that,” Liam adds.

Before anyone else can say anything Zayn's launching into an explanation of exactly who Sebastian Stan is and exactly why Niall should know. It's entertaining watching Niall get the metaphorical shit beat out of him for something as stupid as this, but Louis can't pay much attention when Harry's on the other end of the sofa, eyes stuck on his phone.

They've not spoken much. Even if they did Louis still doesn't know what to say. There's an apology somewhere in his thoughts, but before he shares that he needs to figure out the rest. 

It's not until later when Zayn stands up, saying he needs to head out early that an idea hits Louis. 

“Hey!” he calls, jumping up from the sofa. “Wait up! I want to talk to you about something.”

Zayn nods slightly, eyes narrowed as he heads to the foyer. On his way out of the room, Louis ignores the questioning looks Harry and Liam are sending him.

Zayn's waiting for him in the foyer, hands on his hips and eyebrows raised. Louis glances around to make sure none of the others followed – he wouldn't put it past Liam – and steps closer to Zayn.

Lowering his voice, he says, “There's a guest bedroom upstairs,” he starts. When Zayn only shakes his head in confusion, Louis adds, “I kind of want it redone as a second office.” 

“Shouldn't you be talking to Harry about this?” Zayn questions, brow furrowing more.

Louis bites his lip, breathing out through his nose. “I don't want Harry to see it. I want you to do it.” 

Zayn's watching him carefully, eyes narrowed and demeanor wreaking of suspicion. “Why do you need a second office?” 

Louis isn't sure how much to tell him or how much he already knows about the situation, but he ends up telling Zayn a condensed version of what he's planning. It takes a little convincing, but Zayn agrees eventually and they set up a meeting during Louis' lunch for the next day.

He goes back in with the others and doesn't say a word about it.

**

Louis' leaving for Georgia in the morning. He and Harry still haven't spoken outside of business related things. But Louis has a plan in place. He's not worried. Not really, anyway.

When he walks through the kitchen, Harry's coming in from outside, presumably from the pool house. He's typing something on his phone and doesn't see Louis standing near the sink until Louis speaks.

“When I get back from Georgia will this all be done?” he asks.

Harry startles, nearly dropping his phone, but he recovers quickly, brushing a strand of hair behind his ears. “Yes,” he answers. 

“Even the pool house?” 

“Yes.”

Louis open his mouth, then shuts it quickly, rethinking what he was about to ask. But, because Louis is Louis, he asks anyway. “Will you ever be back?” 

Harry watches him for a second before shrugging. “Dunno,” he says.

“Okay,” Louis nods, eyes on Harry's.

Harry doesn't wait for anything else before walking away. He stops in the doorway, though, and not looking at Louis he says, “The bathroom might need some finishing touches, though.”

Letting out a breath, Louis leans against the counter. Things may not be fixed, but it's getting there and Louis' got a plan.

**

Louis got back from Georgia early this morning, far earlier than he would've liked, but there's a plan he has to see through to the end. And that plan involved him getting up before the sun was even out and flying home where it was even earlier so he could meet Zayn for the thing.

The thing, of course, being part of Louis' plan. And, also, the reason he owes Zayn a whole hell of a lot. Maybe he'll get Zayn into meet Sebastian Stan since he seems to have such an obsession with him. Zayn would appreciate that. Sebastian? Probably not, but Zayn definitely would. He'll need to make a note in his phone for that, have Liam set something up. Even if this doesn't work.

“I fucking hate being up this early,” Zayn hisses as Louis lets him into the house.

“Some people still haven't gone to bed,” Louis points out, shutting the door behind him and motioning for him to go upstairs. “And how do you think I feel? I was on a flight at six in the morning. Got here and it's one in the morning. I want to die.”

Zayn pauses halfway up the stairs, glaring down at him. “I've been working on this every night after Harry and his guys leave like you asked. I've not been sleeping at all for the past two weeks. Limited time and all.”

Raising his eyebrows, Louis questions, “You don't think Harry's figured it out, do you?”

Zayn groans, rolling his eyes. “I hate you.”

He turns, starting back up the stairs. Louis follows after him, realizing after it's too late that he should have brought his suitcase up. He's only been home for a couple of minutes. He'd called Zayn as soon as his plane touched down, telling him to be at the house. 

Zayn, as it turns out, has a penchant for being late like Louis. As well as hating mornings. Although, Louis' not entirely sure if one o'clock in the morning is considered morning or still night. Either way, neither of them should be up. Yet, here they are.

“Okay,” Zayn says, stopping in front of the door with his hand on the knob and turning to him. “Before we go in I need you to understand that I did exactly what you told me to do. So if you don't like it just know that _he_ would. Got that?”

“Yeah, 'course.”

Zayn gives him a pointed look before turning the doorknob and pushing the door open. “Would you like to go in first?” he asks.

Frowning, Louis walks into the room, stopping a couple of steps in. Zayn follows him in, flipping the light on.

The light hurts his eyes at first and he has to blink several times before his eyes adjust. Once they do, he can't stop the deep breath he lets out. He knew because Harry wouldn't work with someone who wasn't equally as good as him that Zayn would be good, but he hadn't realized he'd be _this_ good.

Prior to Zayn, the room was a dark, cold, guest bedroom with too big a window. Now it's absolutely fucking incredible.

“Zayn, it's-.” He cuts himself off, not sure what to say. There aren't words, in his opinion, or maybe it's lack of sleep.

“I know,” Zayn replies from behind him. 

He hears Zayn shuffle around as he continues taking the room in before Zayn actually starts speaking. “He likes that color on the wall there. Lord knows why, but he does.”

The color is green, several shades darker than lime. There's maybe some hint of brown in it, but Louis can't be sure. The trim around the wall is white and the floor is a dark wood with a lighter brown carpet in the middle. On the carpet in the center of the room sits a white desk. It's not an elaborate one, but it's clean and crisp, big enough for a laptop, lamp, a vase of flowers and whatever else one could put on a desk. Accompanying the desk is a white chair with wood finishing and a small green pillow.

Against the walls are white shelving units and cabinets. There's swatches neatly hanging on one, with a wall calender next to them. There are all sorts of little things throughout the room, which Louis assumes is storage for something. There's a white sofa on one side of the room, with a white chair and a long, white coffee table. Assorted bright pillows adorn the sofa and another vase of flowers sets on the coffee table.

The window looks mostly left alone, but there's new trim around it and a curtain rod that Louis never got around to hanging. The curtains are a dark brown, matching the floor and pulled away from the window. 

“This room overlooks the back garden,” he comments, absentmindedly, running his finger over one the shelves.

“Oh, I know,” Zayn replies. “But that window will let in a lot of light once the sun's out. He'll love that.”

“I hope so,” Louis says with a small smile. He takes one last look around the room before he lets his eyes land on Zayn, who's still standing by the door, watching Louis nervously. “This is incredible, Zayn. Fucking beautiful.”

Zayn perks up at that and Louis can tell he's biting back a triumphant smile. “Well, I do what I can.”

“Seriously, it's perfect.”

He shrugs, taking another couple of steps in. “I've left room for it to be more personalized,” he says. “Which someone's gonna do. I'm just not sure who that's gonna be.”

“You know who it's gonna be,” Louis says, walking over to the window. He needs sleep, but people will be here in just a couple of hours and he's still got things to do.

“I know who you want it be,” Zayn retorts. “I'm just not sure it's gonna play out the way you want it to.”

Louis turns to him, eyebrows raised. “Well, I'm going to try.”

“You don't think it's a bit presumptuous?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “But I've got to try.”

“You think it'll work?”

“You know him better.”

Zayn sighs, shoulders slumping. “True, I've known Harry for a long time, but I don't even know how he'll react to this. He's a weird one, but-.” He cuts himself off, looking to the side and letting out a loud breath before turning back to Louis. “Don't fuck this up,” he warns. “Not any more than you already have. I can't handle the moping for much longer.”

“I'm trying very hard not to,” Louis mutters.

Zayn watches him carefully for moment before shaking his head. “Well, we all do what we can, I guess.”

Louis hums noncommittally, turning back to the window.

“You know,” Zayn starts, “he's only waiting to finish the bathroom off so he can see you again.” 

Somewhere in the back of Louis' mind he'd thought as much, but he wasn't about ask Harry. Not that Harry would have been truthful with him even if he had implied it during their last conversation. The thought makes him smile a bit.

“Hey, so listen,” Zayn says, ignoring Louis' lack of answer. His tone is more upbeat than it was before and Louis turns to him. “Do I get paid extra for this?”

When Louis merely cocks an eyebrow, Zayn adds, “Well, I don't usually work in the middle of the night or have to hide this from my mate and business partner, so I was just wondering if I could, uh, you know...”

He trails off, scratching the back of his neck and smiling sheepishly. “We'll talk about it,” Louis tells him. “But when I've had sleep so you can't trick me into paying you more than I'd want.”

“I would never,” Zayn gasps, holding a hand to his chest. “I'm insulted.”

“Yeah, yeah, go be insulted somewhere else.”

“Prick,” Zayn mutters as he turns to the door. “I got up especially for you. You could've shown yourself the room.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Get out.”

“I'm going. I'm going.”

Zayn leaves, mumbling the whole way out about how early it is. Louis goes down the hall and tries to sleep.

He fails.

**

Louis' lack of sleep and nerves have him jittery and he's sure the guy from _American Film_ thought he was losing his mind. He'd not even wanted to the interview today, but Liam had assured him last week it was the only time they could do it. He still isn't entirely sure he knows what the interview was about, but he tried his hardest.

But he's done the interview, called into a radio show for another interview, read through two potential scripts and signed on to do a film with Martin Scorsese. Liam's briefed him on what's been going on in terms of the media and fans in regards to his name and on what he's got going for the rest of the week and it's only ten in the morning. But Louis had everything pushed together for early that morning so he could have the rest of the day free, whether it's for celebration or to nurse his heartache.

He's about to find out.

He and Harry had only exchanged a few texts while Louis was in Atlanta. They were mostly about the remodel, but every now and then Harry would text him something about how boring his day was when he wasn't working or how he'd seen a particularly interesting looking dog in the street that morning. It was nowhere near the amount of conversation Louis had gotten used to, but it was a step in the right direction.

The next hour or so could change that.

Harry's upstairs, putting the last finishing touches to the bathroom. When he's finished he's going to give Louis a bit of a tour. Louis' been tempted to peek all morning, but he knows it would ruin the surprise and Harry's worked so hard on it. He deserves to show it to Louis.

“Okay, I think I'm done,” Harry calls down the hall. “Come and see it!”

Louis takes a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut. Here goes, he thinks. First the bathroom, then the other thing.

He pushes away from his desk and starts toward his room. Harry's standing in the doorway, smiling widely at him. “You're going to love it,” he says when Louis gets close. His smile is bigger and his voice is more high-pitched than normal. “And I'm not just saying that because I did it. It's fantastic. Perfect!”

Louis pauses, staring at him. “Okay, there, Mr. Enthusiasm. Let me be the judge of that.”

Harry claps his hands together, spinning on his heel. “You're going to love it,” he sing-songs as he leads the way to the bathroom.

“For your sake I'd hope so,” Louis retorts.

Harry stops abruptly, turning to him with a questioning look. “I get paid either way.”

Slowly, a disbelieving grin breaks out across Louis' face. “Surely not.”

Nodding, Harry tells him, “It's in the contract. You signed it. I assumed you'd read it.”

“No, I had Liam do it,” Louis tells him, the grin gone. “And I assume he had my lawyer do it. But nobody told me about that little clause before I actually signed.”

“Oh,” Harry breathes out, eyes wide and mouth left open. He stays like that for a second before shaking his head and smiling again. “Well, I'm sure it won't be a problem because you're going to love it,” he says before turning back toward the bathroom.

Louis' sure that's true. He's loved everything Harry's done so far and he's seen some of Harry's work on other places. Besides, nothing can be worse than what it was before Harry started working on it. Harry's not in any danger of Louis not paying him. Liam's the one that should be worried.

“I'm not really worried about this,” Louis says, stepping around his suitcase he's yet to unpack. “I'm worried about my agent and my lawyers not telling me the whole specifics on the contracts I'm expected to sign.”

“I'm sure you're fine,” Harry says over his shoulder.

“You say that now, but next thing you know I'm starring in some badly produced kids show on Nickelodeon, hoping a light falls and kills me.”

Harry stops just in front of the door, tilting his head toward him. “Wouldn't you know what the contract was for, though? Like you aren't just going to sign something without knowing what it is?”

“Of course not, but I'm saying they could trick me. It's already started.”

Snorting, Harry says, “At least you'll have a beautiful en suite.” 

“That's yet to be determined,” Louis replies, looking between Harry and the door.

Harry smiles shyly. “You ready?”

“Are you?”

Without saying another word, Harry turns the knob and pushes open the door, motioning for Louis to go through.

Unlike this morning in the office, the light is on and Louis immediately sees the room. And holy hell is it amazing. The walls are a light blue with a blue, black speckle pattern backsplash. The floor is a staggered, hexagonal tiling in rich creams. The counter-tops are a rich, sleek, light blue color, but, even through this whole ordeal, he can't tell if it's granite or marble. He's betting on marble, though. 

The tile in the shower matches the backsplash on the walls. The features in the shower look like a combination of the three best hotel showers he's been in and the tub is a jacuzzi, covering one whole corner of the room. He's got two separate black pedestal sinks, along with cabinets and mirrors with each. He can't see into the little room the toilet is in, but he bets it's miraculous as well.

There are little personal, added features to it, which he thinks is what Harry's spent the last hour doing. There are flowers by each sink, some candles around the edge of the tub, white, fluffy towels hanging on the towel rack and various little decorations Harry's set out.

It's fucking amazing and it occurs to him that it's been too long since he last spoke, but it's so perfect that he can't think of anything to say.

“The floors are heated like you asked for,” Harry says somewhere to his right. “The counter-tops are a light-blue Italian natural marble. I've had it finished so it's less likely to stain. The backsplash is an Italian terrazzo marble in blue ocean, as well as the shower. It's a rain shower with body sprays, but it has the standard wall mount as well as a hand-held unit.”

Harry walks around him, heading toward the toilet. “I didn't do anything fancy with this,” he says, motioning inside. “You didn't really strike me as the type to care. And, um-.” He cuts off, looking around the room. “Oh! I got rid of the window like you asked.”

Louis glances toward where the window used to be. He knows it's gone, saw when he walked in, but it's easier than looking at Harry right now. Harry, who's looking at him with a mix of elation and hesitance, who spent more time than he probably normally would have putting together this bathroom for Louis.

Honestly, he hadn't thought he'd get choked up when he saw the room. He thought he'd be marginally impressed when he saw how Harry converted it to something nice looking from the horrendous eyesore it was before. He wasn't expecting this, to be speechless.

But this isn't just about the bathroom. It's about everything else. It's about Harry going above and beyond what he was asked to do. About Harry doing more than the bathroom. About Harry becoming someone Louis can't imagine his life without.

“Harry, it's-.” He snaps his mouth shut, giving the room one more glance over. When he's done, he turns to Harry, who's biting at his bottom lip and watching him with concerned eyes. “It's amazing,” he settles on, slumping as some of the tension he's had build up over the last couple of weeks disappears. “It's seriously so so amazing. I don't even have words.”

“You like it?” Harry asks hopefully, his mouth quirking up at the ends. “You're not just being nice?”

“I love it, Harry,” he answers with as much sincerity as he can get. “I really, genuinely love it. Thank you.”

Harry's smiling unabashedly then. “Good. I'm, uh, glad.”

They stand there in silence for a while, watching each other carefully and Louis knows it's his turn. He needs to say something now. Because Harry thinks his time here is done. He thinks he's about to leave for the last time and never come back. 

Louis needs to fix that because he doesn't want Harry to leave and never come back. He wants Harry around all the time.

“So, I'll just, um, go,” Harry says, gesturing toward the door and taking a couple of sideways steps toward it. “I'm glad you like the room.”

He turns fully, taking one, two, three steps toward the door before Louis moves. “Wait!” he calls, rushing forward to grab Harry's arm.

Turning slowly, Harry cocks an eyebrow. “I want to show you something,” he says and without further explanation or questioning from Harry he leads him out of the room, into the hallway and down to the new office.

“I want you to see this before you go,” he says, opening the door, stepping in and turning on the light.

Quickly, he steps to the side and faces Harry, watches as Harry takes the room in. His expression is unreadable and he doesn't know what that means. Harry cautiously walks over to the desk, running a hand over it and staring down at the flowers.

“This is beautiful. That's my favorite shade of green on the wall,” Harry says, voice low. When he looks up his brow is furrowed. “Did you know that?”

“No, I didn't,” Louis tells him. “Not until this morning.”

“This morning?” Harry echos, brow furrowing more. “I don't understand. Like at all,” he adds, glancing around the room.

“I know you have an office with Zayn,” Louis begins, stepping forward. “But I remembered you telling me that you and Zayn spend a lot of time at home working, but didn't have a decent space for it.”

Harry narrows his eyes, mouth popping open. “I still don't get it.”

“I had Zayn do it, while I was in Georgia.” 

The hopeful expression that was blooming on Harry's face dissipates. “Well, it's nice.”

For a second Louis has no idea what triggered Harry's change in mood, but then he gets it. “Oh! It's not for him, though. _Obviously_ ,” Louis says, trying and failing to bite back his smile. “It's for you,” he admits quieter than he'd intended. “At least, I'd hoped it was for you.”

He ducks his head and when Harry doesn't say anything he continues. “You know, I mean, obviously, you don't have to use it or anything. But, I had Zayn do it for you because I thought-.”

He shuts himself up, regretting this whole thing. He was being stupid. There's no way Harry wants this or what's implied by it. Louis jumped the gun on this one and Harry's trying to find a polite way to let him down.

When he looks up, Harry's smiling at him, eyes bright. “Bit presumptuous, don't you think?”

Louis sighs. “Well, sure,” he agrees. “But I'm not saying you have to use it now or at all. Only if you want to, but I guess what I'm saying is...”

When Louis doesn't elaborate, Harry comes over to him. “What you're saying is?”

“This is me trying to apologize for being a massive dick,” he says. “I was being an idiot because I was scared and nervous and it took me longer than it should have to realize that I've got nothing to be scared about. I want you around. I want you in my life. As, well you know.”

Harry lets out a breathy laugh. “No, I don't know,” he says. “Do you want me in your life as your interior decorator? You friend? Your boyfriend? Friends with benefits? I don't know. You've got to communicate with me, Lou.”

Frowning up at him, Louis shoves lightly at his shoulder. “Be glad I got that out,” he says. “But seriously. Harry, you're one of the-. No, you are the best person I know and I love spending time with you. I _want_ to spend time with you. I want to _be_ with you. And I know I kind of fucked up a bit, but I was hoping you'd forgive me and at some point in the future you'd utilize this otherwise useless space.”

“You're right. You were being an idiot,” Harry states.”And, honestly, I'm a bit surprised it took you this long to realize that.”

“Well, actually, I realized it a while back, but you wouldn't talk to me,” Louis admits.

“Is that so?” 

“Yeah.”

Harry laughs again. “Are you expecting me to forgive you?”

“I was hoping you would.”

Humming, Harry looks around the room again before settling on Louis. “I think I might. Do you know how much Zayn charges? A lot more than he should.”

Louis laughs. “You've got the same prices.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry says, face scrunching up. “Well, all the same.”

“But you forgive me?” Louis asks hopefully.

“You built me an office in your mansion,” Harry says. “And got my best friend to help you with it after he knew you broke my heart.”

“That's not an answer,” he points out.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Yes, I forgive you, but I'm not sure I know what you're asking.”

“I don't know,” Louis shrugs. “I like you and I want to, you know, be with you. I want to take you on dates and buy you nice things even when you tell me not to. I want to take you to places you've never been before and all that shit. That's what I want. All I need to know is if you want it too.”

“Louis, look at me,” Harry says even though Louis already is. “Do I look like I want anything other than that?”

“Well, I...”

“Louis,” Harry sighs, exasperated. “I could've gotten that bathroom finished a month ago. I could've finished it when you were in Atlanta. I won't charge you extra for that because it was all on me, but I didn't finish when I could have because I wanted to stick around until you realized what you actually wanted.”

Louis clears his throat. “I did.”

“Yeah.”

“So what's that mean?”

Harry shrugs. “I don't know. This was all your idea.”

“Hmm, yeah. It was,” Louis nods. “I just kept giving you work to do to keep you around.” 

“Yeah, I figured that out very early on,” Harry tells him.

Louis hums, nodding. “You know, if this were a movie, and I'm quite acquainted with those so I know what I'm talking about, this would be where we kiss.”

“Oh, is it?” Harry asks, stepping closer.

“Yeah, yeah. You'd tell me again how much you love the room-.”

“I'm not doing that again.”

“And then you'd kiss me.”

“I think you need to stick to acting. Your script writing is bad.”

“Well, there's one way to shut me up.”

Harry snorts out a laugh, but gently cups Louis' face. “I think this is where I'd cut to black, to be honest,” he says quietly, leaning down.

Louis doesn't have a chance to respond before Harry's kissing him and it's better than any movie moment he's had because it's _Harry_. He never wants to give this up. So Liam can fuck right off for saying he didn't need an interior decorator. Louis will stay right here in his beautiful house, kissing his beautiful interior decorator.

**

Louis isn't nervous. He doesn't get nervous for this sort of thing anymore, but maybe he is nervous. A little. Okay, he's nervous.

Because it's Harry's first time being his plus one for one of these things. They've been together for several months now – half a year if they're really trying to figure it out – and they've known each other for over a year now. And not once has Harry been to a premiere or award show.

It's not like Louis hasn't asked because he has many times, but Harry always declines. He claims he hates the crowds and the attention, but that's so far from the truth Louis laughs every time. The truth is, and Louis knows this, Harry doesn't want to make Louis uncomfortable, which is ridiculous because he's not uncomfortable with Harry being with him at these things.

He's gotten past his issues with it, something he's told Harry many times, but Harry doesn't seem to believe him. So he's gone to tapings of talk shows with him and even visited him on set, but he's never been to a big event. It's not something that bothers either of them too much, but Louis' got an attractive, smart, kind boyfriend and he kind of wants to show Harry off a bit. If only to actually prove to people that Harry is indeed real.

Apparently, and according to what Liam's told him, when Louis had admitted in an interview with Ellen that he wasn't as single as people thought and then refused to give any details people didn't believe him. They seem to think that Louis' making it up, lying for some weird PR thing. It doesn't make sense to him, but that's what he's told.

Harry staying out of the public eye as much as he could seemed to only spur that on. It's not a big a deal and Louis jokes about it a lot, but _honestly_. He's not lying. He wouldn't lie about that.

So he's convinced Harry to come with him tonight on the condition that if he wins he'll dedicate the award to his hideous bathroom. Louis tried to change the conditions, but Harry was unwavering. Louis kind of hopes he doesn't win.

Still, Louis' not nervous. Not if anyone asks, that is.

They'd arrived on the Red Carpet earlier than Louis normally would have because Harry, as it turns out, likes being early. Before they'd gotten out of the car, Louis had reached for Harry's hand, given him a squeeze, a peck on the cheek and told him he'd be okay.

Harry didn't deny and followed him out of the car to the blinding camera flashes and the screaming. Liam ushered them to the first area for pictures. Louis took several by himself, a couple with the cast that's already there, and then Liam brought Harry in.

They took pictures for a while and Louis knows that by the end of the night people are going to want to know Harry. He's relaxed in front of the camera and he easily looks better than every single person there. While dressed a tad eccentrically, he's stunning and Louis can't stop watching him.

During the interviews Liam's pushed him into, Harry's off to the side and Louis' caught himself staring on more than one occasion. Louis loves award season and he actually quite enjoys giving the interviews, but tonight all he wants to do is stay with Harry. He can't do that, though, because Liam keeps sending him to do interviews.

This one is toward the end of the line. Louis can't remember for who or what the interviewer's name is, but he knows he talks to her every time. She's nice and she can keep up with him unlike a lot of the interviewers he deals with.

“Now, Louis, I have to ask, who are you wearing tonight?”

She might be from a fashion magazine, he thinks, trying to buy time. He honest to god doesn't know. He doesn't care about fashion and usually bullshits his way through this question. Somehow, this is the first time tonight he's been asked.

He's trying to remember because he knows Harry was with him, got his outfit from the same place after they'd squabbled about the price and who was going to pay for it.

He can't remember.

“Honestly, love, I don't know,” he says, smiling. “I never do.”

“You don't have a clue?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “But I'll tell you what-.” He cuts off, looking around for Harry, Liam, and his publicist. They aren't too far away, but they aren't paying attention. “Harry!” he calls.

Harry turns, eyes wide. Pointing to himself, he mouths “Me?”

Louis nods and Harry starts over, questioning him with his eyes, which Louis chooses to ignore. When he gets there, Louis wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him closer so Harry can hear over all the noise.

“What am I wearing?”

Harry blinks at him in exasperation. “Who,” Harry corrects. “But Armani.”

“Ah! Yes!” Louis turns back to the interviewer. “Armani! I'm wearing Armani. He's wearing Armani. We're all wearing Armani.”

“You both look amazing,” she says, eyes flickering to Harry. 

He can tell she wants to ask and he's hoping she doesn't. He doesn't want the night to turn into _that_ , regardless of what he told Harry. And he knows that just having Harry here will get some attention, but doing a whole interview about it isn't what he had in mind. 

“So, Louis,” she begins, “got a speech planned for your win?”

“Uh-uh. We don't plan ahead,” he says, shaking a finger at her. “We don't plan ahead,” he repeats. “Everyone nominated tonight is absolutely incredible and it's an honor to just be nominated, but I-. I don't know if I'll win or not. I never do and I never prepare anything. Believe me, it's better that way. But what I can tell you, is that I promised someone.” He pauses, jerking his head in Harry's direction. “That if I should win I would dedicate the award to my horrendous bathroom.”

Beside him, Harry laughs. The type of laugh that's got him bending over and slapping at his knee. Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's not that funny, but he's got a suspicion Harry's reaction is mostly due to his nerves and being in front of a camera.

“Your bathroom?” she asks, brow furrowed. “It can't be that bad.”

“Well, it's not anymore,” Louis tells her. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Liam motioning that he needs to be ending it soon. “I got a decorator and my whole life has been changed because of this bathroom. You've no idea.” Harry's huffing out a laugh and rolling his eyes. Louis subtly pinches his side. “But it's been fixed.”

“Then why...?”

She trails off as Liam comes over, giving Louis his usual unimpressed manager look. 

“Why dedicate the award to my bathroom that now only exists in hell? Well, like I said, it changed my life, but that's all I can really say about it. You just have to believe me.”

She chuckles politely before saying, “Well, thank you, Louis and good luck. You look amazing.” Turning toward Harry, she says, “So do you....”

She's waiting for a name or any hint of who Harry could be, but Harry doesn't give her much. “Thanks,” he says. “I'm the interior decorator, by the way,” he adds quickly before Liam and his publicist move them along.

“You're an idiot,” Louis tells him over his shoulder. “An absolute idiot.”

“Says the one who's about to dedicate an Oscar to his bathroom,” Harry retorts as they walk into the Dolby Theatre.

“Shut up.”

Louis does win the award and during his acceptance speech, after thanking the Academy, his family, friends, cast and crew, and even Liam, he considers not saying anything at all about Harry and the bathroom, but he made such a big deal about it during that interview he feels obligated now. 

“To finish this off and please don't turn the music on me yet,” he says, flashing his best smile to the audience. “I want to say that a little over a year ago I moved into a new house and I want to thank my realtor, Niall Horan, for finding me this absolutely gorgeous house with the worst looking master bath I have ever seen. I would also like to thank said bathroom for finding me an amazingly talented and wonderful interior decorator. I'm not going to thank the interior decorator for anything because-. Well, because I'm just not.”

He pauses, smiling down at Harry, who's trying to hide his face behind his hand, while the audience laughs. “Now, I do want to say thank you to the interior decorator's business partner for helping me fix a problem I created with my actual interior decorator.” 

The audience laughs a little more and Harry's trying to sink further into his seat. Louis really hopes a camera is on him. He looks ridiculous. “Mostly because the interior decorator became someone very special to me and ended up redoing basically my whole house.” 

He pauses again, clearing his throat and looking down at the little gold man he's holding. The music is starting and he knows his publicist and Liam would love for him to have quit after thanking his family because everyone must think he's drunk, but he's still got more.

“But I want to dedicate this award to something even more special to me because it changed my life,” he says. Lifting the award in the air a bit, he adds, “This award, this win, this little gold man is dedicated to my bathroom.” The room starts laughing again, but he talks over them. “So, thank you again to the academy. This will have a great place to sit in my bathroom. Thank you.”

He smiles again, posing with the award. When he's being lead off stage, he points at Harry and mouths thank you. Harry smiles back before remembering he was trying to hide. The last thing Louis sees is Harry covering his face and laughing as Liam leans over to say something to him.

**

The next morning several outlets have lead with Louis' bathroom, all speculating that the attractive, charming man with Louis was his boyfriend.

When the interview Louis brought Harry into goes live a few hours later, the speculation turns to wondering if Harry is, not only Louis' boyfriend, but the interior decorator as well. 

Louis declines to comment, but he does tweet a picture of the bathroom before Harry fixed it and follows it up with a picture of the Oscar sitting next to his sink.

Harry laughs when he insists that he's going to keep it there, but eventually Harry makes him take it back downstairs where the rest of his awards are kept.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's](http://acloreinteriors.com/a-clore-interiors-studio-make-over/interior-design-ideas-for-home-office-3/) the inspiration for the Harry's office.
> 
> [Here](http://www.trulia.com/property/11588465-14330-Mulholland-Dr-Los-Angeles-CA-90077#/) is the house that sort of served as some inspiration for the outside an bits of the inside of Louis' house. If it's been taken off the market I'm not sure you can still see the pictures or if the page will show up. Sorry if they don't.
> 
> Louis' new bathroom is a product of a lot of research and something that exists entirely in my mind. Sorry, I don't have pictures for it.
> 
> The _American Film_ magazine was real until 1992, but in 2012 was turned into a monthly digital edition.
> 
> Again, I hope you enjoyed and thank you!!


End file.
